Shaping Superman
by The Noble French Fry
Summary: Clark Kent's junior year in high school's looking to be pretty wild. There's a new girl in Smallville that's got a few things to teach our farmboy. She helps to shape Clark into the hero he'll become. Some OCs. COMPLETE!
1. Definition and Meeting

**Title: Shaping Superman: The Tale of Caitlin O'Conner**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, or any of its components. No money's being made... No spendable money anway... :P**

**Claimer: K, so I don't own Smallville... But I DO own: Caitlin O'Conner, the entire O'Conner family, Caitlin's Floridian friends (all of them from preppy Britney to punk Elysa), Michele Thompson, all created elements of this story and the idea behind it.**

**Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Supernatural/Sci-fi (hello, it's about SUPERHEROES!), Romance, Humor, Angst (nothing major), Spiritual (Caitlin is Christian, so there are things that entails), General, elements of Clois romance (hidden), some definite Clana elements (it wouldn't be realistic without them), very mild Clark torture**

**Spoilers: Um... I'm not sure. It does have alot to do with future Superman stuff, so...**

**A/N: Alrighty... I went back and fixed a few typos in this first chapter and added a prologue... Enjoy that. And I'm also renaming all of the chapters like episodes of the show with single words.**

**To first time readers: If you don't like Mary-Sues, let me warn you: Caitlin will come off as a Mary-Sue in the beginning. But if you watch, she'll slowly let you in to her faults.**

**TO ALL: This story is currently being sequeled by the author Michiri in a story called "Shaping Clark: the Michele Thompson Story" and I'm about to finish my own sequel called "Revisiting Superman."

* * *

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**Definition (Prologue)**

There comes a point in all lives where they are defined by a single moment, a single influence, a single occurrence. In lives with no meaning, the occurrence has been wasted, but in the greatest of them, the influence is heeded to the greatest of details.

Often this crucial moment is when one's life is reached by a teacher, or when one meets a lifetime best friend. Time and again this influence is made by the realization of your life's purpose, or by the finding of your outlook on the world. In most cases, either of these is reached by the influence of a special person, an educator, a companion. The occurrence, like all others previously mentioned, is often when you at last see that you've had your defining moment, and that that teacher or friend has become both, and has shown you something vastly and amazingly significant to your life. One's defining moment is one's utmost moment.

Superheroes, whether they exist or not, have their defining moments as well. Actually, they have two: one for that of their normal life, one for that of their heroism. They, as all others, may heed the moment, or they may waste it and such squander themselves.

What happens to a life which has honored its definition? Frequently, it is the accumulation of greatness. Perhaps, often it is simply personal joy for those who have nothing immensely huge to offer or change in the world. However small, its rewards are constant.

So the great legend of the superhero called Superman, the remarkable man who is the idol of all of America, where was his defining moment? Did it even exist with such a man?

Of course it did! Both that of his normal "human" life and of his life as a superhero. One must assume that his personal moment included the great sincere influences of his parents, who taught him his devout honesty that so empowers him today. But what of his hero moment? Has it been lost to time?

It has until now.

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_**Done with the prologue... On to the story. :D**_

* * *

**Meeting**

The day started like any other one of Clark Kent's life—wake up late, zip through his morning chores on the family farm using his superhuman strength and speed, and run all the way to school too fast for human eyes to track because he'd missed the bus.

And today was the first day of Clark's junior year in high school.

It looked to be fairly much a repeat of last year: most of the same classes and same extra-curricular activities.

All-in-all, a fun but typical year as far as Clark Kent's life went. But of course, because of Clark's special abilities, it could never be exactly "typical".

This morning he hurried down Smallville High's hallways to his locker. Before he made it there, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Mr. Kent."

Clark turned to see the owner of the hand and voice: Ms. Burchard, the new art teacher. She as a short, round-faced woman that reminded Clark more of a student than a teacher.

"Yes, Ms. Burchard?" he answered.

"First, it's Pamela or Pam," she replied with a smile. "And secondly, I've got a job for you." She turned around and took a tall, thin blonde girl by the arm, drawing the girl forward toward Clark. "This is Caitlin. She's new to Smallville, and I'd like you to show her around."

Clark turned to the girl and extended his hand, flashing her a bright, welcoming smile. "Hi, Caitlin and welcome to Smallville. I'm Clark."

She returned the smile and shook his hand. But she didn't say a word.

_Shy, huh?_ Clark thought. Well, she was in a new school and town.

"No offense, but I've got a question, Ms. Bur—Pamela," he corrected himself quickly. "Well, two really. One: Why me? I'm a little rushed this morning. I'd still be happy to do so, but I'm not exactly the best choice this morning. And two: Why does she even need an escort? There are a lot of new students here today. I'm sure Caitlin's more than competent enough to find her way around."

"Firstly, you've got a knack for making the new students feel welcome, and you've got most of the same classes as Caitlin," Ms. Burchard replied coolly. "And to your second question: Caitlin is more than competent enough, but up until this point, she's been _homeschooled_." At this, Clark's eyebrows rose. Homeschooled? "She doesn't even really know how public high school works. Besides, you can introduce her to all of your wonderful friends."

Clark caught the subtle life of the teacher's brow that said, "And protect her from any bullies."

But Caitlin caught it too and she shot the teacher a "Gee, thanks for believing I can take care of myself" look.

Ms. Burchard must've caught the look, but she totally ignored it. "So, Clark, what do you say?"

"Sure," Clark answered after a few seconds' hesitation. "I'd be glad to escort her."

"Good," Ms. Burchard said. "You two ought to get moving, class starts soon."

Clark nodded a quick good-bye as the teacher turned and strode off.

"Well, Caitlin, if you'll follow me, I'll help you find your locker," Clark said, starting off down the hall with Caitlin right beside him. "What number do you have?" he asked.

"472," she answered without hesitating.

Clark frowned. "Did you memorize it already?"

"Yes."

_Odd, _Clark thought. He'd only gotten his locker number yesterday and he hadn't memorized it… he carried a piece of paper in his breast pocket with the number.

"So…" Clark said, searching for a topic. "Caitlin, where are you from?"

"Florida," she answered quietly.

Whoa. That was unexpected. From her accent, Clark would have expected that she was from the southeast… Like Alabama or Georgia. Not Florida.

"Wow, Florida," he said. "That's quite far away. So, where at in Florida? Miami? Tampa? Panama City? Pensacola?" Clark scoured his mind for other large Floridian cities.

"Actually, north of Jacksonville," she answered.

"So Smallville's a big step down from your old home," he said. "What's it like going from huge city to tiny town?"

"No, Smallville's a bit bigger than my hometown," Caitlin replied. "Yulee's only got a population of 10 thousand, Smallville's about 25. I said _north_ of Jacksonville. Tiny country town, not quite as farm orientated as Smallville anymore."

"Oh," Clark said, slightly embarrassed. "Still, how much different is it, and what do you miss about home?"

"The people are pretty similar, and the feel of the town reminds me of another little town that kind of melted to and mixed with Yulee: Fernandina. But Fernandina's a little bigger than Smallville. Still, it's got the same feel. It's still got its differences though. And of course, it's gonna take me a lot of gettin' used to not to have a beach at all."

"Yeah, that has to be a huge difference," Clark said. He had her talking now. "Well, what brought your family so far away to Smallville?"

"My dad's business," she said, bitterness creeping into her voice. "His company is openin' a plant outside of Metropolis, and they wanted him to supervise it for its first 6 months or so. And my dad couldn't live in or even near a big city, so we found Smallville. And we up and moved. The entire family. I still can't understand how my dad could uproot me and all of my siblings like that."

"'All of your siblings'?" Clark asked. "How many do you have?"

"Three brothers and a sister."

Clark felt his eyebrows jump. Five children? Her parents had to be nuts…

"And one of my brothers is nine and a half years older than me, and married. So his wife is out on our little homestead too."

"So, let me get this right," Clark said. "You have eight people crammed into one house?"

"Not exactly," Caitlin said. "My family bought a vegetable farm, with one big house that my parents, two younger brothers and sister live in. Then there's an add-on apartment-style room for me. And another, small house out on the other side of our cornfield for my brother and his wife."

"Ah, so eight people in two houses."

"Yes."

Clark looked up and looked at the lockers. "Here we are. You said you had 472? It should be right over there." Clark gestured.

"Thanks," Caitlin said, stepping over to the one marked '472' and opening it.

Clark turned and strode down the hall a little way to his locker, marveling at just how different this new girl was. Very different indeed.

X-X-X-X-X

"O'Conner, Caitlin."

Caitlin looked up. "Here," she said.

The history teacher made a mark on his roll, then passed on.

"Patterson, Gilbert."

_Gosh, I hate public school_. Well, years and years of homeschooling's freedoms had left Caitlin feeling extremely trapped and annoyed by public school's "structure". And she spent most of the time during class daydreaming about home, since she already knew almost everything the teachers were saying. Homeschooling was at fault for that too.

_Why did we have to move?_

Smallville was all well and good, but it couldn't compare to Yulee anyway. Her mother's family had been rooted to that town for the past six generations, but as soon as Daddy was offered the job that would send his family all the way to stinkin' _Kansas_, he'd jumped.

Now she was nearly a thousand miles from the only home she'd ever known. Nearly a thousand miles from the beach she'd loved so much. Nearly a thousand miles from all of her friends…

_Stop._ She instructed herself harshly. This wasn't doing her any good.

"Well, welcome to your junior year of high school at Smallville High, everybody," the teacher said. "I'm Mr. Adamson, and I'm now personally welcoming you to your first session of my class: American History 101. I won't make your first encounter with me all that boring, actually I'll try and keep it interesting. I'm making it something you guys probably haven't learned much about: conditions in the south during the time of the American Civil War."

Caitlin felt her face pinch up angrily. She was from the south, and they taught those exact conditions to all kids in the south.

"Yes, I know all of you have heard over and over again what the conditions here in our area were, and how we didn't play too big a part, but I'm going to show you what was going on in Georgia, Alabama, the Carolinas, Virginia, northern Florida… And so on. I think I'm mainly going to touch on various forts that are obscure in the war's told history. Like Fort Clinch. Can anyone tell me where Fort Clinch was?"

None in the class raised their hands.

"I thought not—" Mr. Adamson began. He stopped when he saw Caitlin's hand go up in the air. "Well, it seems we have someone who wants to take a crack at it. Miss…?"

"O'Conner," Caitlin supplied.

"Alright," the teacher said with the smile of a predator that had prey in its range. "Miss O'Conner, where was Fort Clinch located?"

"Fort Clinch _is_ located in the city Fernandina Beach, on Amelia Island, Florida." A smug smile began to cross her face. "It was first a Confederate fort, then taken by the Union in 1862. Beyond being used during the Civil War, it was also used during the Spanish-American war. Constructed in 1847, but the land was used before that all the way back to 1736, restored and turned into a state park in 1935. Nothing major in the Civil War, no major battles or skirmishes, but allowed access to Georgia and Florida coasts." Her smile had fully blossomed. "Is that enough information?"

"More than adequate, Miss O'Conner," Mr. Adamson said, frowning. "You're from the south, aren't you?"

"Yessir," she replied, letting her southern accent come fully in.

"That's a lot of information for anyone on such a minor fort, even if they are from the south," the teacher prompted.

"I'm from northern Florida," she supplied. "A couple miles outside of Fernandina Beach, just off Amelia Island. My family loves the state park, camps there, fishes there, has friends that manage the park…"

"Ah, I see." He spread his hands open wide. "It seems we have an expert, right here in our midst. Miss O'Conner, would you like to help teach this particular lesson? I would guess that you probably learned a lot about most of the things I'll be teaching on in grade school."

"Yes, sir, I'll help where I can. You have no idea how much you've just brightened my day."

X-X-X-X-X

Clark Kent had the same American History class as Caitlin. He saw firsthand her display of knowledge, and after that first outpouring, she tried to keep it as little flaunting as possible.

Needless to say, Clark was impressed.

And add one more notch of strangeness to the new girl.

After class, Clark joined Caitlin right outside in the hall. "Nice job there," he said. "It's very refreshing to get taught by someone your own age that knows more on a subject than the actual teacher. It gives us some hope. And it seems to me that you just might have the knack for teaching."

"It's not a knack, per se," Caitlin replied. "Just experience. My three younger siblings were homeschooled along with me, and often I was their teacher. My mother wasn't the best at teaching. I think that's why she's sent us to public school."

Interesting, and odd.

"So, what's next?" Caitlin said. "No, wait… I can answer that. Lunch, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Clark said.

"Well, I'm starved. Lead on to the cafeteria."

X-X-X-X-X

The cafeteria was just like Caitlin expected: filled with all of the school's students, separated into their little cliques already.

Jocks and cheerleaders, Goths, skater punks, music junkies, nerds, and miscellaneous.

She had always despised the cheerleader/jock types. So superficial and stupid. Goths weren't her kind either, far too dark and against her beliefs. Skater punks were all well and good, but she wasn't very good on any kind of board. Music junkies… She liked music, but not like that. Nerds… Personally, she'd always felt she was a nerd, and with a high grade-point average, glasses, braces a few years ago and the occasional acne, she often fell right into that category. But she didn't feel that on the first day of her high school career it was wise to isolate herself with that group. Maybe she should try and fall in with someone other than the outcasts.

"So, which group is yours, Clark?" she asked.

As she waited for a reply, she looked at him up and down. He looked fairly strong, like he'd been working out, exercising… But not exactly a jock. He never struck her as being superficial enough.

Definitely not a Goth/punk, he didn't look like a music junkie… he seemed smart, but not too nerdy. So all that left was miscellaneous.

"Well, I've got friends from across the board, and we kind of formed our own."

After heading through the line and having all sorts of odd-looking junk dumped on their trays and plates, Clark steered Caitlin over to a table where two girls were already sitting and chatting.

After sitting his tray down on the table, Clark said, "Caitlin, I'd like you to meet a couple of my friends." He gestured to the one with blond, messy-styled hair that rather resembled Caitlin's own. "This is Chloe. She's the editor of 'The Torch' our—"

"School newspaper," Caitlin finished for him. Ignoring the look on Clark's face, she extended a hand to Chloe, which Chloe then preceded to shake. "Hello, Chloe."

"Hi," Chloe replied with a huge smile.

"And this is Lana," Clark said, gesturing toward the pretty, dark-haired girl across the table.

The pained look on Clark's face was only there for a second as he said Lana's name, but Caitlin caught not only that, but an emotional flicker from Clark too. He was obviously on semi-good terms with Lana, but if that look was any indicator, they had had a large if not enormous disagreement lately.

And not only that, but Caitlin also sensed the giant upsurge of affection from Clark towards Lana.

Very interesting.

Caitlin offered her hand to Lana, who like Chloe, received and shook it with a smile. "Hello, Lana."

"Hi."

Caitlin came around the table to sit beside Lana, across from Clark as he said, "And this is Caitlin. She's new to Smallville and the high school. I was recruited to show her around."

"Caitlin O'Conner?" Chloe said. "The one who turned on Mr. Adamson in history class?"

Caitlin made no move to answer this, so Clark did it for her.

"Yeah," he said. "He asked a question he thought no one could answer, and she flipped it back on him and basically showed him not to underestimate the students. Wait, how did you know?"

"It's all over the school!" Lana said. "You've already become a celebrity, so to speak."

"That spread mighty fast," Caitlin said with a frown. "We just got out of history class five minutes ago."

"Never underestimate the power of gossip," Chloe said with a smile.

"Indeed." Even as a homeschooled child, she had learned the power of gossip.

"Hey, this is actually a pretty good story for the Torch," Chloe said, a glimmer beginning to show in her eyes. "Would you mind doing an exclusive interview with me?"

"Uh, sure," Caitlin said. This was the first time she'd ever been on the speaking end of an interview.

"I can see the headline… 'Southern Student Teaches Teacher.' Or something like that."

"Sounds rather cheesy if you ask me," Caitlin replied.

"Excuse me?" Chloe said, an eyebrow raised.

"I said it sounds rather cheesy," Caitlin repeated. "The headline sounds tacky… Won't catch people's attention solely by the title. You need that when you've got a good one on your hands… You have to catch 'em before you hold 'em. One of my dad's fishing proverbs."

"And you would know all of this because… you're a reporter yourself?" Chloe prompted.

"I do a little journalistic writing from time to time," she admitted. "But truly, fiction is my strong suit."

"Fiction?" Lana finally spoke up some. "That's quite interesting."

Caitlin knew what Clark was thinking: Add one more odd thing about the new girl to the ever-growing list.

_If only you knew the depths to which the oddness goes._

"Yes, it is." Chloe's face had gained an interested expression. "So you know how to bend the written word a little, especially when it's not true." It was a statement, not a question. "I think we've just found ourselves the Torch's third permanent reporter," she said to Clark.

"Chloe, before you go getting all excited, don't you think that you should ask her?" Clark retorted.

"Oh, yeah," she said, turning to Caitlin. "Well, what do you say, Caitlin? Join the staff of the Torch? If you list it as your primary extra-curricular, you get excused from a whole mess of annoying classes and side activities."

"I guess my answer's yes," Caitlin replied. "Sounds like a pretty interesting use of my time." She paused, then added, "Oh, and it's unlikely that I'll be a permanent reporter."

Chloe's brows came together tightly. "Why?"

"My family will be leaving Smallville and going back to Florida in early March."

"Well, six months is probably plenty of time," Chloe replied. "Anyway, do you have a better title for my story/interview with you?"

"Sure," Caitlin replied. "Something more appealing to a general range of people. 'Proof Teachers Can't Always Teach as Well as Students' or something shorter, like 'Teachers _Are_ Teachable'. You see? More appealing, even if the odd double 'S' double 'T' is not there."

"Sounds pretty good," Clark spoke up. "Better than yours, Chloe."

"Oh, you're only taking her side because she's new!" Chloe joked. "Actually, Caitlin, it does sound pretty good."

"Thank you," Caitlin said, a smile on her face. "And I'm looking good for working for you, Ms. Editor. It looks to be a very interesting school year."

X-X-X-X-X

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. More boring classes that Caitlin tried to pay attention to, and had some success at. She noticed most of the teachers avoided asking questions that they meant to be rhetorical, like Mr. Adamson had. Obviously her fame had spread to the teachers as well.

Good. She'd only been in a public school for one day, and she'd already made a name for herself, and a pretty good one at that.

Caitlin was hurrying out of the school's front doors toward the parking lot when she heard Clark behind her.

"So, do you have your own car, or do you still catch a ride to school?" he asked when he'd come up alongside her.

"I have a car—a truck actually—it's just a matter of being allowed to drive it," she replied.

"Your parents don't trust you to drive it?" Clark asked.

"No, it's the law. I don't have my license."

"Failed the test, huh? But you've had what, a year and a half or so?"

"No, I still have a year to go," she replied, glancing at him. "I'm not seventeen, or anywhere close. I forgot to explain this earlier… I just turned fifteen in the end of August. I skipped a grade."

"You did what?" Clark asked, shocked. Fifteen? No way…

"Yeah, you heard right. I'm fifteen years old, and should be starting my sophomore year, but I skipped up to my junior year. I'm not sixteen or seventeen, I'm only fifteen."

"Wow," he said numbly. "That must've taken a lot of work."

"Yeah, my last couple of summers have been spent working towards skipping at least one grade. It worked, and now instead of graduating at seventeen, I'll graduate at sixteen—graduate high school, get into college and get my driver's license all in the same year."

"Ambitious," Clark commented.

"And sometimes, I wander to think 'foolish'."

Personally, Clark couldn't see how he could ever stand doing such a thing. Working himself crazy just to move up to the same level as some people nearly two years older… No, he had to admit, to him, it held nearly no appeal.

"So I guess that means you catch a ride," Clark said, changing the subject before any of those thoughts came out.

"No, actually, I walked this morning."

"So it's not far?"

For a moment, she didn't answer. Then she just said, "Clark, if you don't mind, I'd rather get going, and I'd kinda like to walk alone."

He was slightly hurt, Caitlin could tell, but nothing that wouldn't heal quickly enough.

"Sure," he said. "I have to go find myself a ride anyway."

He turned and was off.

And Caitlin was left wondering just how much stranger Clark Kent could be. Little did she know that she was about to find out just how much in full.

X-X-X-X-X

Fifteen. Clark still couldn't believe it.

Not only did she act much older than a fifteen-year-old, she looked older. She… seemed older on all accounts. Looks, behavior, intelligence…

_Why does it matter?_

That's just it… it really shouldn't matter.

Why did he care so much that she wasn't the same age as he'd thought she was?

That question went unanswered as Clark got out of sight of the school and started running upwards of seventy miles per hour down the street toward home, concentrating on not hitting any cars on the road.

He didn't see the shockwave until it was too late.

It slammed into him, and since he was going 70 miles an hour, it hit him hard enough to send him flying backwards—even though he was superhumanly strong. He flew back off of the road and into a cornfield, plowing out several rows of corn with his back as he slid along the ground to a halt.

What was _that_?

It had to have been extremely strong to send him off of his feet and into the air… Extremely strong—

At the head of the row he'd plowed through the corn, he caught a glimpse of a person peeking in at him—

They turned and ran after they realized they'd been spotted.

"Wait!" Clark called futilely after whoever it was.

But they didn't pay attention and instead turned, leapt and zoomed off through the sky. Clark caught one last look at the fleeting back as the figure disappeared out of Clark's vision, moving incredibly fast—probably about as fast as Clark himself could go.

Superhuman speed…

And Clark had to assume that whoever that was had probably had something to do with the shockwave that had caused him to crash in the first place…

It seemed that once again, he wasn't the only special one in Smallville. The only question was, what were this new person's priorities, and could they be trusted?


	2. Revelation

**_Welcome to the second chapter of my story: A Startling Revelation. It's not quite as long as the first chapter, but it's still pretty long. I cranked it out ASAP... It takes place a week after the first chapter, and it gives you some insight into Caitlin O'Conner. Let me warn you: it has a very special detail that will be revealed... You won't understand the title until the end. And the end is a pretty big cliffhanger…_**

**A Startling Revelation**

Public high school was beginning to grow on her.

True, it was still not her first choice as far as schooling went: she'd still rather be at home, being the teacher over her lower siblings and pushing herself to her mental limits and beyond. Still, she was happier in public school now than she had been that first day, and she was beginning to get comfortable, so to speak.

Wouldn't her friends back home in Florida be stunned to hear _that_.

Caitlin O'Conner was beginning to like public school.

"Now then, can anyone tell me the definition of the term 'cosine'?"

Caitlin looked up from her notes and raised her hand.

The teacher gestured towards her. "As much as I meant that to be rhetorical, please give the class the definition, Miss O'Conner."

"A cosine is the ratio of the adjacent side to the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle," Caitlin answered confidently. These teachers never learned that rhetorical questions were her favorite ones to answer.

"Correct," the math teacher said with a sigh. "Would you kindly stop studying ahead the rest of the class, Miss O'Conner? Frankly, you're making me look bad as a teacher."

"I'll have to try, Ms. Smith," Caitlin said with a smile.

The bell rung, announcing the end of class.

"Well, tomorrow I'll begin teaching just exactly what a cosine is, and what its uses are. Everyone other than Miss O'Conner ought to at least prepare, so she doesn't run away with the class again."

That brought a few chuckles out of the class.

Caitlin gathered her backpack and books and began to slide out of the classroom with the rest of the students when Ms. Smith spoke up.

"Hold on just a moment, Miss O'Conner."

Caitlin complied, hanging back as the flow of students passed her. She turned to face her teacher with a slight smile. "Yes, Ms. Smith?"

"Good work in class, Miss O'Conner," Ms. Smith complimented. "Your test was tied with two others for the best in the class. I can tell mathematics isn't your favorite subject though."

"No, ma'am, mathematics isn't my strongest suit," she said.

"And yet you're at the top of the class. Utterly amazing, if I may say so. And you're a year and a half younger than all of my other students. I don't think I've ever had a student that's held herself to the standards to which you do."

"Not many people do anymore," Caitlin replied, sorrow touching her voice.

"Indeed." Now came the downside. "Are you sure you're not overworking yourself?" Ah, the eternally asked question: was Caitlin working herself too hard?

"I'm sure, Ms. Smith. Not only do I believe in well-rounded studies as a general rule, but my father is somewhat obsessed with science, and mathematics play a big part in his particular area of expertise. He often gives me and my siblings above-grade level lectures and lessons all of the time." She sighed. "You know, everywhere I go and demonstrate what I can do, and how God's gifted me, I get asked that same question. 'Are you workin' too hard? You're too young to work that hard.' But I'm not. I still have fun, I still do all of the fun things teenagers do—wait, scratch that. I still do most of the _clean _fun things teenagers do. I'll admit, Ms. Smith, that I work myself hard. But not to any point of danger. Nowhere close. I know my limits, Ms. Smith, and I find it imperative that I stick to the inside of them. You don't have to worry about me."

Ms. Smith sat through this whole speech quietly, nodding intently. Now she leaned back in her chair and announced, "That speech was good, but it sounded rather rehearsed."

"Well, ma'am, it is. Everywhere I'm asked that question, and everywhere I give people almost the exact same speech. But don't worry, I'm no less truthful for havin' repeated it over and over again."

"Indeed," Ms. Smith agreed. "Well, Miss O'Conner, you can go now."

"Thank you for your concern, Ms. Smith, as misplaced as it may have been."

With those words still lingering in the teacher's mind, Caitlin turned and strode out of the room slightly quicker than normal, discouraging the teacher from replying. She was down the hall and to her locker in seconds.

_Why do you people have to assume something's wrong with me just because I work harder than most of America's steadily declining youth?_

That thought was beginning to nag at her. Nothing was wrong, she was simply different. In more ways than one.

"Hey, what was that all about?"

"Nothing, Clark," Caitlin replied, turning to face him. "Ms. Smith had some concerns that she wished to voice."

"Let me guess… She thinks you may be working too hard."

"You dropped in on the right wave."

"What?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Right on."

"Oh." He paused and then continued cautiously. "You're not are you? Working yourself too hard, I mean."

"No, Clark, I'm not. Thanks for the concern, but just shut your mouth. I get this from too many other people to get it from fellow students."

He seemed slightly stung.

"Thanks for the concern, but I don't have any use for it," she rephrased.

"I understand."

Next on today's agenda: the Torch.

As always, Chloe was there when Caitlin and Clark strode through the door into the small, office-like space.

"You're both late!" Chloe exclaimed in mock-anger. "Try and show up on time, people! Time is of the essence!"

"Ooh, I'm sorry, Madam Editor," Caitlin replied in mock-admiration. She half-bowed. "We'll try and be on time from here on out, milady!"

Clark smiled and Chloe chuckled.

"Nah, seriously, why were you late?" Chloe asked Caitlin.

"Ms. Smith wanted to talk to me after class." Caitlin made a face that showed just how happy she was about that.

"I take it you're not very happy," Chloe said, turning back to her computer and where she was most likely working on this week's headline story.

"Not at all," Caitlin growled.

"Well, good. The story I'm going to send you two on after school doesn't require a happy person." She grabbed some papers from her desk and handed them to Clark. "Simple enough. You're going out to the old schoolhouse from the 60s to see how it's changed during its decay. Snap some photos, take some notes. Doesn't sound particularly interesting, huh?"

"Not at all," Clark said with a frown as he flipped through the pages. "What's the big deal about it?"

"Well, after the new school building was built in '66, the old one was basically left to rot. A lot of people believe that the county should've at least began using it for something else. So basically you're out there to throw it in county officials' faces that it was left and could've been used for numerous things, yet it wasn't…"

"Piece of cake, and boring to boot," Caitlin said, leaning back in her chair. "Looks like today's just not my day…"

X-X-X-X-X

Clark's mind wandered as he sat in art class.

Ms. Burchard—the teacher that had first introduced Clark to Caitlin an entire week ago—was talking about different types of shading types in drawing, the various uses of each type and the technique used to draw it. Clark didn't particularly enjoy this class, but for this semester, it was mandatory.

And as Ms. Burchard droned onward, Clark's mind began to wander aimlessly. And as it wandered, it couldn't help but rewind to a week ago, to the first day of school.

And his trip home as he was flung at least twenty feet off of the road and into that cornfield by that still unexplained shockwave. And to that still unidentified person that had taken a peek around the stalks of corn at him, and to that same person who had fled once they'd realized Clark had spotted them.

Clark had come to guess by the demonstration of power that the mystery person had displayed that they had probably caused the shockwave, either intentionally or unintentionally, Clark still hadn't decided. But this also led Clark to believe that the person was probably another one of Smallville's Kryptonite-mutated weirdoes.

And probably a teenager too, since those were the ones that seemed to be mutated more often.

Oh, great.

This day was just getting better and better—

Suddenly, a loud, blaring alarm interrupted Clark's thoughts.

The fire alarm.

Ms. Burchard was snapping orders over the blare of the alarm and shuffle as all of the students stood and began hurrying out. "Don't panic! Don't wait! Hurry up and move out, but be mindful of your peers! Don't push anyone. Come on, you've practiced this since you were in Kindergarten! Move, people, move!"

And the students seemed obliged to obey her. They squeezed out of the classroom's double doors and into the main hallway rather orderly, not pressuring too hard, but not exactly softly either.

The hallway was already beginning to fill with smoke.

Smoke poured out of one direction and hallway in particular… The hallway that housed most of the science labs.

Carefully and inconspicuously, Clark edged out of the flow of people and into that hallway as the smoke became thicker and thicker…

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin moved out of the room near the back of the mob, Ms. Burchard right on her heels. The hallway was already half-filled with smoke that had slight chemical undertones, and Caitlin almost immediately noticed the smoke was coming from the science labs.

_Great, what have you nerds done now?_

She began easing her way towards the smoke-filled corridor and out of the flow of kids and teachers heading for the exit…

A hand tapped her shoulder just as she ducked within the edge of the smaller hallway.

"Yes, Pamela?" Caitlin asked quietly as she turned to face the squat teacher.

"I want you to be careful," Ms. Burchard answered her voice taut and quiet. "I know you're special, very special, but you're not invincible. And I don't want to be the one to explain to your mama how it is that you got burnt up."

Caitlin flashed her a bright smile. "Don't worry. You know me, Pamela."

Yes, she did. It wasn't common knowledge, but Pamela Burchard was Floridian too. And she was from the same little corner of the state that Caitlin O'Conner was… And she knew something about Caitlin that only four other people in the entire world knew.

"Yeah, and I still want you to be careful."

"I will, I will," Caitlin reassured her once again. "But I need you to do something for me, if you please." She slid her backpack off of her shoulder, unzipped it and took something out, re-zipped it and handed it to Pamela. "Take this for me, please."

"Sure, I'll hold your purse, Wonder Woman," Pamela joked.

Caitlin flashed her another bright smile, then took the dark mask she'd taken from the backpack and slid it over her head.

Her identity safely hidden, she slipped deeper into the smoke-filled hallway toward the fire-consumed science labs, ears and mind alert for trapped students and teachers.

X-X-X-X-X

Clark could smell the chemicals in the smoke now. He was winding his way around the little fires that had found their way into the corridor toward the source of the flames.

The farthest science lab.

Clark planned on checking for anyone trapped back here, then putting out the fire in one room, then moving on to the next blazing room. He could only hope that it would work—

Clark's super hearing picked up a faint call over the blaze of the fire. He started to run—

Something whooshed past him, going extremely fast. And heading towards the source of that faint call.

Clark ran even faster.

As he reached the door, he caught a glimpse of a person's back as they disappeared through the flames, unharmed. Using his X-ray vision, Clark could see the skeletal figure of the apparent super-person that walked through flames unharmed… and of the person pinned in the room's far corner, under a toppled cabinet.

Clark sped through the flames untouched to the back of the room…

Just in time to see the super-person flick a hand and send the burnt and broken cabinet flying off of the other person and against the wall. A multi-hundred pound cabinet, without even touching it.

Even as Clark stood there and gaped, the super-person gestured again and the limp body of the newly-freed student lifted gently.

"Here, Mr. Kent," the super said in a voice that was either a high-voiced male, or a low-voiced female. Whichever this person was, they were rather tall—probably 5' 10"—and that led Clark to believe that it was a guy… "Take my little rescue here outside, please." The limp student was set down softly in Clark's arms. "Don't worry, he's unconscious. He won't remember anything about your special abilities. Your secret is safe."

This statement shocked Clark. How did this person know?

_The shockwave…_

"Yes," the super replied. "The shockwave… But it doesn't really matter how I know…"

Clark couldn't decide whether he'd read something on Clark's face, or… read into his very thoughts…

"Just get going!" the super snapped in a decidedly feminine voice. "Set him down in the main hallway where the firefighters and paramedics can find him. Set him down _gently_!"

Clark complied. By the time he got back, the fire was out in the first lab, and the mystery super had moved on to the next.

By the time the fire department reached the school, all the fires were out, three semi-burned and slightly injured students were waking in the main hallway, and no one was around to explain.

X-X-X-X-X

"Strange fire today at school," Caitlin commented as Clark steered his father's truck down the abandoned dirt road toward the old deserted schoolhouse. "Ragin' like a wildfire one minute, utterly gone the next. What could've caused that?"

_Me and some odd, Kryptonite-caused freak that I still know next to nothing about put it out._

"I have no idea whatsoever," Clark answered aloud. It was as far from the truth as he could get. "What about you?"

"I have a couple of theories, but none make sense," she replied. "So basically, I've got nuthin."

"Hmm. Could I hear one of your theories?"

Her expression became suddenly reluctant. "Uh, well…" Suddenly, it changed again, to interest and slight relief. "Hey, we're here."

_Interestingly convenient timing_, Clark thought suspiciously.

But they were there. Ahead was a small, once-white schoolhouse that looked fairly small, covered by forty-odd years worth of vines, weeds, moss…

"Looks just like sumthin out of a horror movie," Caitlin commented as she stepped out of the parked truck.

"Yeah, it does," Clark agreed as he followed her.

Caitlin retrieved a digital camera from her jeans' pocket, snapped a picture and headed towards the schoolhouse. "Come on, Clark. Let's get this over with."

Clark went first; opening the front doors first… they swung open with a blood-curdling _creeeeaaaaakkk_.

The inside was in even worse shape than the outside. Most of the floorboards had given way, making walking somewhat treacherous. Vines and weeds covered most of the walls… roofing beams were lying on the floor where they'd fallen… light leaked through the holes that the beams had left, providing the only lighting…

"Quaint," Caitlin murmured dryly as she walked forward, snapping pictures occasionally.

Clark stepped forward to follow…

Without warning, a ceiling beam broke loose and swung downwards—straight towards Caitlin.

"Caitlin, watch out!" Clark yelled as he leapt forward to catch it before it hit…

And stopped short as Caitlin swung a hand upwards toward the falling beam, palm out…

And the beam froze, right where it was: in mid-descent.

Clark gaped.

"Uh, don't bother, Clark," Caitlin said, glancing back at him. "I think I've got it."


	3. Partners?

**_Hey, the 3rd Chapter is finally up! Sorry it took so long... I was on restriction for a while! It's not great, but gives you a lot of insight into the character of Caitlin, and reveals some of her secrets.

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_**

**Partners?**

Clark remained gaping at Caitlin as she moved her hand and the beam, setting the wooden beam down on the ground.

"H-h-how…?" Clark started.

Caitlin chuckled lightly. "Lots of practice," she said sarcastically.

"But you-you-y-y-you…?"

"Are a freak?" she supplied. "Yeah."

"Y-y-you…?"

"Yes, Clark, I'm a freak," she snapped, exasperated. "I'm a telepath. I can read people's thoughts, alter them, remember lots of obscure things, and—"

"Levitate things?" Clark asked.

A smile touched her face. "Yeah, that. Telekinesis… very tricky thing. The ability to move things solely with my thoughts… it is a little strange. Takes unbelievable amounts of concentration."

"But you're not from Smallville… You haven't been exposed to—" Clark cut himself off.

Caitlin scoffed at him. "You, are extremely forgetful, farmboy. 'You haven't been exposed to—Kryptonite'," she finished for him. "Idiot, I'm telepathic. I can read your thoughts… I know what you're gonna say before you say it, even if I don't fully understand it. This Kryptonite… it's the meteor rock, isn't it? The strange meteor rock that changes the biochemical structure of most people that are exposed to it in various ways?"

"Uh, right. But then how did you…?"

"Become a freak?" She sighed and sat down on a rotting wooden bench sitting off to the side of the room. Clark followed. "You know, I'm not entirely sure. I think it may have been exposure to the chemicals in the lab at my dad's work a couple of years ago. I got the same job my older brother got before me: washin' dishes. You know beakers and stuff. One day, some supposedly dangerous stuff leaked in the lab… I was exposed before anyone realized what it was… But then, it could just as easily have been a multitude of other things. I suppose whatever it was, God just decided that I could use the responsibility, and I could help people."

Clark didn't press the "God just decided I could use the responsibility" thing. Caitlin had already made several similar comments that left Clark no doubt as to her religious stance.

"And have you been? Helping people, I mean."

"Yeah, Clark, I have. I was playin' superhero in my hometown and Fernandina alike ever since I got a good grip on my abilities. I have a costume and a mask… to hide my identity… I've saved people from all sorts of things, and even rescued kitties from trees."

This made Clark chuckle. "Saving kitties from trees? Oh, how noble. Do the locals have a superhero name for you?"

"Sorta," Caitlin answered, the edges of her mouth beginning to twitch downward. "They, like you, don't know my gender when I'm in costume. You saw that I wear that baggy, solid black, fire-resistant jumpsuit when I'm a superhero. I made sure it meant people couldn't identify my gender or age… So the people kinda call me 'Tele-Man' sometimes. Sometimes they call me 'Physch-Out', that's mostly the skateboarders, surfers and teenagers in general… I like that one, since it's not gender-identifying. The Star Wars nerds like myself call me 'The Lone Jedi', because they think I almost am a real, life Jedi… I like that one too. Most of the time I'm just identified as 'that freak superhero'."

"Interesting names, all of them," Clark said. "Did you ever make a headline?"

"Yeah," Caitlin replied. "Many times. 'Who's the freak in the cape?' ran in the Fernandina Beach News-Leader, and 'Real life Superhero?' was its counterpart in the Nassau Neighbors. They were my first."

Clark waited, hesitating for a minute before he asked the next question. "Has anyone… ever figured out who you are?"

"Only a couple, but there are those that I've told."

"How many people know?"

"Only six, including you," Caitlin answered. "What about you, Clark? How many people know who you really are?"

"You, my once-best friend Pete—he moved away—and my parents."

Caitlin pondered this list for a few seconds. "You know, I've always wished I could add my parents to my list of 'People who know the real me'."

"You mean they don't know?" Clark exclaimed.

"No, they don't. I just have a gut feeling—or rather premonition, since I'm a telepath—that I shouldn't tell 'em. That something will go wrong if I do. They haven't figured it out either… I've made sure they're not close when I go to change identities…"

"So, who are the five?"

"Well, my best friend, Olivia Southwell—she was there when I first figured out I was different. My second best friend Kelsey Duggan, I told her soon thereafter. My friend Jessica Brand, she figured it out. My pastor and… Miss Pamela Burchard."

"Our art teacher?" Clark's eyebrows disappeared into his raven hair.

"Yes."

"How…?" Clark asked.

"She's from Jacksonville, just south of my home. I met her during a Jacksonville-area academic program in eighth grade. She was in town one of the days where I had to perform one of my heroic stunts… she figured me out."

"Ah, so one of your teachers knows, but not even your own parents?"

"Yep. And that guilt card ain't gonna fly, farmboy."

"What guilt card?" he was about to ask. But then he remembered… _she'd see through my lie._ Instead he said, "I really wasn't expecting it to. It's just… kind of strange. I mean, my parents are really the only ones around here that really know, and you don't even have that. I assume that all three of your friends and your pastor are back in Florida… so that only leaves Ms. Burchard."

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Caitlin growled.

"Okay," Clark said quickly. "Can you… explain the shockwave to me?"

"Sure, Clark. I sorta fibbed to you that day when I said I walk to school… I didn't and don't… I sorta fly."

"You can fly?" Clark breathed. _Finally, some one else…_

"Well, not exactly 'fly' per se… I levitate myself. Anyway, I was flyin' home, and suddenly, I sensed a presence rapidly approachin', even though I was goin' like 60 miles per hour already. Yes, Clark, I can also sense people comin'," she answered the question before he even asked. "The brainwaves make a blip on my mental radar. So I figured, 'Hey, I'm gonna see just who this is.' So I hit you, and I hit you hard with my telekinetic shield. I didn't know how much you could take, so I gave it nearly all I had. (I'm sorry I knocked you so far…) And then I snuck around the corner of the corn to take a peek. I was so shocked to see that it was you, Clark Kent of all people, I didn't even notice that you'd spotted me. So I flew away as fast as I could."

"Darn fast," Clark commented. "How do you…?"

"Telekinetic jet propulsion," Caitlin answered smoothly.

"Hmm… and that's how you got past me in the hallway?"

"Yeah. I can propel myself when I'm levitating and while I'm running. I can go much faster levitating."

"We should have a race sometime."

Caitlin smiled. "I can only hold the speed you saw a week ago for about ten to twenty minutes. But at sixty miles per hour, I can go for a couple of hours."

"Interesting. Caitlin, can you explain what exactly you did at school today?"

"Yeah…" Caitlin took a deep breath. "I jet-propelled down the hallway, formed a shield with my telekinesis, walked through the flames with the shield to protect me, levitated the cabinet off of the student, gave him to you, choked the fire—with telekinesis again—moved on and repeated. It's as simple as that."

Clark nodded. _Yeah, _real _simple_, he thought.

There was a long silence for a moment, then Caitlin broke it.

"So, Clark, what all can you do?"

He considered replying, "Not much. Only what you saw." But once again, he remembered she could read his thoughts.

"I'm super strong, super fast, I have super hearing, X-ray vision and heat vision."

"X-ray vision?" Caitlin looked genuinely surprised. "And it never occurred to you to look through my mask at school to see who I really was?"

Clark's face reddened slightly as realization dawned. He could have done that easily…

Caitlin burst out laughing.

Clark's face reddened even more. "Well… I like to do things the honest way! Unlike you, I do things the polite way!" he burst out before he could stop it.

Caitlin's laugh died quicker than Clark would have thought possible, fading into an angry snarl. "Excuse me!"

_Uh-oh… You've opened the wrong can of worms, Clark…_

"I mean, you always know what people are thinking, so you get to cheat! You don't even have to study for tests! You can just read the teachers' minds and get the answers!"

Caitlin's eyes were mere slits, her face fumed and she was on her feet, stretched to her full, startling five feet, eleven inches… "How dare you…" Her voice was a strained, angry whisper, like the warm winds before the storm…

"Don't you even dare tread on that ground, Clark Kent!" she exploded. "You know perfectly well that I would never even dream of doin' any such thing! I don't just walk around readin' everyone's thoughts that I can! I purposely surround myself with mental static that blocks out most people's thoughts from comin' through… Only directly connected thoughts—like someone thinkin' 'Caitlin's a dork'—or someone that's thinkin' openly hostile thoughts come through the static. And that's only within a five to seven foot radius. And I would _never_ read a teacher or fellow student's thoughts just to do better on a test! You know better, Clark!"

And somewhere in his gut, he knew he did. But foolishly, he still felt he had to try to justify his thoughts. "But your grades… they're so much better and _impossibly_ high for someone your age…"

If Caitlin had exploded before, she was nuclear now. "How _dare_ you! I've worked my tail off for those grades, Clark! I've always worked hard to keep myself on top of the academic world around and above me! Clark Kent, you know the moral standards that I hold myself to! You _know_ I'd never dip low enough to cheat!"

Clark was embarrassed now. Yes, he knew. He should've known not to even step close to accusing Caitlin of such things. "I know, I know, I know," he said quickly, waving his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Caitlin. I know… I shouldn't have accused you of things I know you would never do."

"Darn right," Caitlin snarled. She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes and released it slowly. Just as quickly as the storm had come, it subsided. "I'm sorry for the outburst, Clark, but false accusations are a pet-peeve of mine."

"I understand," Clark replied. "I should never have said anything like that in the first place."

They finished the assignment in silence.

Finally, as they exited the old schoolhouse, Caitlin broke it. "Clark, I hope you don't mind, but I'd rather fly home by myself."

"I don't mind," Clark said.

As Caitlin began to float gently up into the air, still in a standing position, and turn away, Clark called, "We're… alright, right, Cate?"

Caitlin rotated back toward him with a bright smile on her face. "Yeah, Clark, we're okay."

A return smile sprung to Clark's face.

"But we won't be if you keep callin' me 'Cate'!"

Clark's smile became a laugh. And still smiling, he turned to get in his father's truck and drive back to the farm…

"Oh, yeah… One last thing, Clark."

Clark turned back to see Caitlin zooming down towards him. She stopped a foot away from him, six inches from the ground, making her just as tall as he was. She straightened herself, holding herself highly postured like a businesswoman. "Eh-hem," she cleared her throat. "Clark, you and I are… two of a kind. We've both been blessed with abilities unlike any other, and we've had a ton of responsibilities dumped on our laps." She jutted out her hand towards him. "Partners?"

Not entirely sure what she meant, Clark grabbed and shook her head and said, "Uh, yeah, sure. Partners."

X-X-X-X-X

"So, how was your day, Clark?" Martha Kent asked her son as he set down his backpack and sat at the kitchen table.

"Good, Mom, and… weird," Clark answered. _Very weird indeed._

"I heard about the fire at school," Martha said as she continued cooking dinner at the stove. "I take it that was you who put it out?"

"Well, not exactly, Mom."

Martha Kent froze where she was, and turned around to face Clark. "What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

"Well, I didn't do it alone."

Martha was fully alert now. "Someone helped you? Clark, did they… see you do anything?"

"Yeah, they did." Martha's eyebrows shot straight up with concern and she opened her mouth to reply, but Clark spoke first. "Don't worry, Mom. She won't tell anyone."

"How can you be sure?"

"She has a secret of her own, and I know it. Besides, she's the most honest and moral person I know."

Martha seemed to consider this, then decide to trust Clark's judgment on the matter. "So, who exactly is 'she'?"

"Uh…" Clark hesitated. Should he really be divulging this? Even to his mom? _Caitlin needs some support around here. _He pressed onward. "Well… unbelievably, it's Caitlin O'Conner."

The corners of Martha's mouth turned downward. "That smart, Floridian girl from school?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah… It turns out she's telepathic, and can move things with her thoughts… She helped with the predicament at school, but escaped identification then because she was wearing a costume. And just now, we were on an assignment for the Torch out at the old Smallville schoolhouse. A ceiling beam fell loose…" Clark shook his head. "And she effortlessly deflected it with her thoughts. I saw it with my own eyes, and she told me all about her abilities."

"She's the last person I would've expected for such things," Martha said, turning back to the stove. "But I've never really met her…"

"I know," Clark said. "It seems she was a real-life superhero of sorts back in her hometown. And I think she wants to teach me some of the tricks she's learned." He felt his brows come together and lower. "She proposed partnership to me earlier… I said yes, and now I think I really know what she means. She wants to teach me how to be a superhero?"

* * *

**_So there it is. Now you know much more about Caitlin, and about her life. Review away!_**


	4. Seashore

**_This is definitely not the best chapter I've written. I just wanted to use this point to make a bridge to show you what's in Caitlin's heart, and show you some of the other characters that may appear laterin small doses. By the way, I claim Olivia Southwell and Lexi O'Conner. They are both mine, and only mine._**

**_And this particular chapter is dedicated to the REAL Olivia, my best friend FOREVER. I'm telling you how I feel in the best way I know how. Love you forever, Livs. Enjoy it._

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**Home is _still_ in Florida**

Olivia Southwell was Caitlin O'Conner's best friend in the entire world… her other half, the other side of her heart and life, her companion and crutch through many struggles… All together a piece of her, even though she was a thousand miles away at the moment.

But with the best of friends, a thousand miles doesn't seriously harm the connection of their hearts.

They were still connected, just as they'd been since fifth grade. They called each other twice a day, every day, without fail.

Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays were Caitlin's days to call. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays were Olivia's.

Today was Thursday, and Caitlin's call was running a little late. It usually came right after Caitlin got home from that awful public school, around 3:30, and it was almost _five_…

Olivia was sitting on the couch, starting to watch Gilmore Girls on ABC Family, when the phone finally began to ring.

She was off the couch in seconds.

"Olivia, get the phone!" her mom called.

She was too late: Olivia had grabbed the phone midway through its second ring.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey, Livs, sorry my call is late," a familiar voice replied.

"Yeah, why the heck is it, Caitlin?" Olivia asked.

Olivia could practically see the grimace on her best friend's face. "I had an assignment to do for the school newspaper immediately after school. With Clark Kent… You remember, the other reporter guy, the one that escorted me around the first day of school?"

"Yeah, Cait, I remember."

"Anyway… It took longer than expected, you know with all the work and stuff."

Before Caitlin and her family had left Florida, Olivia and Caitlin had finally finished working out the code they'd been working on for the past few years. And "with all the work and stuff" was code for "and something happened".

"What kind of work?" Olivia asked. Translation: _what happened?_

"Well, just the normal, run-of-the-mill homework."

_Oh, my gosh,_ Olivia thought, feeling her breath catch. That particular code meant that… someone knew Caitlin's secret.

"Was it hard?" _Who is it?_

"Not with Clark Kent." _Clark Kent._

"Is he a good worker?" Olivia asked. _Is it safe for him to know?_

"Yeah, he's pretty good, a very unique style of worker."

Olivia frowned. She couldn't have just heard what she thought she had. _Caitlin did you really mean…? _she thought. _Did you really mean Clark is special too?_

"Nah, really?" _Are you sure?_

"Yeah, Olivia, really."

"That's… really cool, Cait."

"Yeah, it is a relief not to be the only one."

There was a short, thoughtful pause before Olivia spoke again.

"So, how was school today?"

"Okay," Caitlin answered. "As good as public school can be, I guess. I mean, I miss those freedoms that you homeschooled guys still have, and I hate the hours so bad…" Olivia heard a slight sniffle. "But it's not as bad as we used to make it out to be."

"Yeah, we always thought it was terrible, just because we had to get up early…" Olivia said with a light chuckle. "Just because we knew public school meant no sleeping in till nine like we like."

"Yeah, I miss that."

"Hey, Cait, I know I keep askin' ya this, and ya keep sayin' 'Ah, I'm not sure yet' but how is Kansas in general?"

"Just like school: as good as it can be, I guess. Dangit, I hate the lack of beach so much… I miss the salty smell in the air all over Florida… Kansas… is okay. But it's not home. It's never goin' too be home. They say 'Home is where the Heart is' right? Well, my heart's still in Yulee with you. Life will go on, but Home is still in Florida."

"You're makin' me feel bad, Cait."

"Story of my life, huh, Livs?"

"Yeah, story of your life." Olivia smiled. "You know that I'll be up there next week… Miss Sandy paid me today, and I've got enough for the plane ticket. Mom's already booked the flight online. Me and her will be flyin' up to Metropolis next Friday and leavin' Monday morning." Olivia couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. "We're comin' to Smallville for the weekend!"

"Olivia, that's great! I thought you were just talkin' before when you said you would try and come up one weekend. What about Kelsey?"

"Well, she can't catch the same flight as us—she's doing something Friday morning—but she's coming too. Unbelievably, Miss Hope's letting her fly by herself!"

Kelsey was their second best friend, and Caitlin's younger sister Lexi's best friend. Often they formed an inseparable quartet. She was one year younger than Caitlin and two years younger than Olivia… And her mom was letting her fly from Jacksonville to Kansas by herself when Olivia's own mother wasn't letting her.

"Well, she has been out of the country to Costa Rica a couple of times, without any family."

"But that was with the church!"

"True. Anyway, Olivia, I'm gonna start planning where to take you, who to let you meet… It's going to be one of the best weekends ever, especially the best weekend any Floridian's ever had in Kansas."

"Heck, yeah!" Olivia said. _And our hearts can be one again._

"I can show you everything… you'll get the special tour."

"The aerial?"

"Livs, there are no plane tours in Smallville like there are in Fernandina." Translation: yeah, you'll fly with me.

"That's okay."

"Livs, give my apologies to Kelsey. With Lexi escortin' her around twenty-four/seven, she'll have to miss my special tour."

"She'll be disappointed, but I think she'll understand."

"Good. Look, Livs, I've gotta run. I'll be on the computer later, so you can IM me, but I've gotta go for now."

"Okay, Caitlin. You just keep plannin' that perfect weekend."

"I love you like a sister, Livs. Bye."

"I love you too, Caitlin. Bye."

And with a sigh, Olivia hung up the phone.

Caitlin always had to run. Her life was busy, and Olivia wasn't there to help with the busy-ness. She felt a distant pang of pain in her heart, a little bit of longing for Caitlin to be home.

_Don't worry, Olivia, Caitlin will be home soon enough_, she told herself. _Five and a half months left. Just five and a half months._

But everyone knows that to separated best friends, five months is a lifetime.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin hung up the phone with a sigh, as she knew Olivia was doing on the other end of the connection, a thousand miles away.

A thousand miles was too far. Too much for her to handle. Home was too far, she would be gone from it for too long. It was too much, way too much. She couldn't take it… No, a thousand miles was too far for her heart to be split. She couldn't handle it.

"_Stop it!_" she snarled at herself. "A thousand miles is not too far! Gosh, it's not too much! You can stand it, Caitlin, just hold on!"

She had to be stronger than this. She knew she was stronger than this.

A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned back to her computer and the beginnings of her story for the Torch.

She was stronger than this, it was just the stress. Public school in itself was a stress to her. She had never been a social creature, and the socializations involved in public school were getting on her nerves.

But she wouldn't show it, she wouldn't let anyone but Olivia know.

She was doing this for her mom, and for her dad.

Caitlin's mom had come to her right before they moved to Smallville and told her, "Caitlin, no one likes this move. Your dad does, and it's important to him. Just a couple of months, Sis, and we'll be done." Caitlin had had no choice but to listen. "Sis" was her family's term of endearment for her. "Lexi, Ken and Dan aren't happy about goin' to public school. I want you to set the example. Be happy about public school. You may not know it, but despite their fighting, they look up to you. I want you to have a good attitude."

Caitlin had promised her that she would. Caitlin O'Conner never fell through on a promise, unless it was necessary to keep someone alive.

She would suffer through this. She could make it.

She _had_ to make it.

"Whatcha doin', Cait?" a voice said into her broodings.

"Just writing out my story for the Torch, Lexi Luthor," Caitlin replied to her sister with a joking smile on her face as she turned around.

"You know that's not funny anymore now that we live in the same town as Mr. Luthor," Lexi said, walking up the stairs and towards Caitlin and her computer.

"Yeah, I think I know."

"Has that farmboy friend of yours introduced you to him yet?"

"What?" Caitlin asked with a frown.

"Clark Kent," Lexi replied, sitting down on Caitlin's bed. "He's Lex Luthor's best friend apparently."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not."

"I'll have to hurt him for not telling me," Caitlin said, the frown still partially present on her face.

"Go easy on him, Cait. The worst thing you could do is get charged for murder just when we're new in town," she joked.

"Yeah."

Neither of the sisters said anything for a moment.

"Something's wrong with you, Cait," Lexi observed. It wasn't a question.

"No," Caitlin replied slowly, trying to appear to focus on her computer.

"Don't deny it, Sis. Tell me. You can tell me anything."

_Not anything, Lexi._

"I talked with Olivia. I don't know if Kelsey's talked to you yet or not, but they're coming up next weekend. Kelsey, Olivia and Miss Marla."

"You're homesick," Lexi observed.

"And you're too observing for you own good."

That provoked a smile from Lexi, and she said, "Don't worry, Cait, we all are."

"Yeah, I understand that," Caitlin said, her brooding mood returning. "I want to be home so much sometimes. Home is Florida, and I want to be there."

But with a sigh, she pushed her feelings aside and got back to work, and got to thinking just what she was going to do about Clark Kent.


	5. Combat

**First Lesson**

**Caitlin O'Conner**

The weekend was long… Friday was a Teachers Planning Day, so the weekend was extra-long. That was good for most students, but it was slightly annoying for Caitlin.

It meant putting off the little confrontation with Clark she knew was coming.

She was aggravated that she had to find out from her sister that Clark was Lex Luthor's best friend, when Clark had several opportunities to present the information himself.

Some people wouldn't consider it a big deal—who cared if one's friend was the best buddy of possibly the richest man on the face of the earth?

But Caitlin did.

LuthorCorp was one of her father's company's allies so to speak—the labs were often working on the same sort of projects, occasionally donating supplies to the other.

Caitlin had made that fact clear to Clark on at least one occasion, and he still didn't volunteer information on Lex Luthor.

Clark saw her coming up the hallway towards him Monday morning, a dark scowl on her thin face making him say, "Good morning, Caitl—whoa, what's the matter with you?"

"Lex Luthor's your best friend?" Caitlin asked outright, just to be sure. He could not tell her a lie; she would know. Oh, the benefits of telepathy!

"Uh, yeah," Clark said a little uneasily. "I thought you knew. It's public knowledge."

"I don't tend to keep up with such things," Caitlin said. "I think you knew or guessed I didn't know, but withheld information anyway. Tell me why, Clark Kent, and you tell me why now."

Clark looked extremely uneasy at being put on the spot, but at the moment, Caitlin really didn't care. "Most people flinch away when they just hear Lex's name. A lot of people don't like him. And when I tell people I'm Lex's best friend, they tend to dislike me and flinch away from me too." He sighed gently. "I alienate enough people without telling them that, I didn't want to add you to the list," he added quietly.

From all she could tell at the moment, it was the truth.

"Fine, but from now on, you'd better volunteer these things," she said with a snort. "I don't like exposing people to my angry side often, and you seem to be on the receiving end of it a little too much."

"I do, don't I?" he agreed. "Anyway, would you like me to introduce you to Lex?"

"No, that's alright, Clark. Someday, but not today." Caitlin's eyes sparkled. "Today, we'll both be too busy to do any introductions of that sort."

"What?" Clark asked.

"Just meet me in Evan's Field an hour after school ends."

Before he could answer yes or no, she turned and strode away towards her first class—regretfully for him not a class they shared.

X-X-X-X-X

Somehow, some way, Clark didn't see Caitlin again in school today. He figured that was probably her doing: keeping herself distanced so that he couldn't deny her request, so he played along and showed up at Evan's Field after going home and dumping off his school supplies and completing a few chores.

The field was wide and secluded from nearby small roads by a line of trees that surrounded the field on three sides and a pond on the other.

Clark kept his super ears alert for any sounds that might betray Caitlin's location. It was exactly one hour after school had ended, and Caitlin was extremely punctual. She was here, probably waiting for Clark to show up. Clark knew it.

Still, he heard nothing but the wind through the trees and the tall, un-mowed grass.

He used his X-ray vision to look into the surrounding trees and tall grass, turning in a slow 360. The first rotation, he saw nothing, nothing at all, so he started to go again…

This time, he thought he saw something and opened his mouth to call out Caitlin's name…

The object—whatever it was—that he saw rose out of its hiding place rapidly, heading directly towards Clark.

Time slowed for Clark as he immediately snapped into defense mode. In the slowed half-second that it took for his opponent to rise up and over him, he realized that it was Caitlin.

As she passed over, a hard, invisible wave struck Clark and knocked him flat on his back with sheer momentum. Startled and stunned, he lay there as she passed all of the way over and stopped twenty feet past him.

"Today is the first lesson I'll teach you as your superhero partner," Caitlin said, voice even and calm as Clark sat up. "Name of the lesson: Limitations. Gist: know your limitations well and retest them constantly, in case they change. Unless testing, never get close enough to even puncture them accidentally." She let out a slow breath in obvious preparation. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Clark nodded. She meant that she wanted to fight him physically, to help him find his limitations in various aspects, and probably to test her own. He noticed that she had changed clothes since school, changed into a plain white tank top that showed him her strong, tan arms and a pair of baggy cargo pants that let her be very versatile. She was ready for this.

"Good. Lemme lay down the rules. Number one: don't hold back. I'm not going to hold back unless you're in serious danger of injury, and I want you to do the exact same. Hit me hard, Clark, I mean it. Number two: I'll count down the start, and don't move before I finish. I'll also tell you when to stop, and you'd better stop. Number three: Don't forget rules one and two."

"Got it," Clark announced, preparing himself for the fight he knew was coming.

Caitlin rolled her shoulders, straightened her stance even though she was floating in mid-air, and began the countdown. "One… Two… Three… GO!"

Clark wasted no time in dashing off to one side as Caitlin flared straight towards him, palms outwards, fingers splayed wide.

The move didn't fool Caitlin one bit, she corrected even as Clark began his dash, her hands and body both tracking his movements immediately. The invisible telekinetic wave smashed across Clark full-force, sending him tumbling backwards.

But he'd already been hit by her telekinetic waves twice, so he knew how to react to them. He didn't try to resist as he had before, but went with the momentum of the wave, pushing himself further back. Instead of going twenty or twenty five feet, he went thirty.

He touched down on the ground gently, of his own accord.

Caitlin pursued him as he fell backward, probably preparing for another wave.

But she didn't expect to come out of it standing, and so she wasn't prepared for his next move at all. He sent two fiery bolts from his eyes directly at her, bent on doing at least some harm to her before she knocked him senseless.

Even though she wasn't prepared, she saw them coming just in time to dodge off to her left, causing the bolts to graze her bare right arm instead of hitting her stomach.

The veer she made to avoid the bolts brought her close to the ground, and she gently set down on her feet. Clark immediately regretted using his flame vision as he saw her glance at the hand-sized portion of charred flesh across her arm between her shoulder and elbow.

She just mumbled, "Second degree." And shook her arm as if shaking away the pain.

"Caitlin, I'm sorry," Clark said quickly.

One of her eyebrows rose. "Don't be."

And before he knew it, her right hand shot out, palm upward and he was shooting straight up like a rocket. Before he could use his own flying abilities and break her lock, his trajectory changed and he was on an arc heading straight toward the ground.

Before he could do anything, he was smashed face down into the dirt.

The impact was severe—she had hurled him with enough force that an ordinary person would be dead, with shattered bones all over.

Luckily, Clark was not ordinary.

Instead of the dirt harming him and breaking his bones, he plowed on through it, causing a deep crater almost like that of a meteor. It harmed him a little—he could feel the places where bruises would form in a couple of hours—but not enough to prevent him from jumping to his feet in seconds. As he did, he realized that the crater he'd made was probably five whole feet deep.

_Ironic_, Clark thought. _The one that caused all of "The Meteor Capital of the World"'s meteors, makes a crater himself._

Standing, Clark scanned the sky for Caitlin… Ah, there she was.

He focused and got ready to launch a couple more fiery bolts at her and hit her physically if possible…

And abruptly she totally disappeared, right in front of his eyes.

_What the…? _Clark wondered. _How—_

That was all he got to think as another feeling of those inescapable shockwaves knocked him back through the air yet again, and Caitlin reappeared in front of his eyes.

_How—_

He slammed into the ground even harder this time, plowing deep down, back first. As soon as he felt he had stopped, another shock hit him and he plowed even further.

His shirt was helplessly ruined by now, dirty and torn in a few places and he knew that he was helplessly beaten. He was even more bruised now, and unbelievably he was beginning to ache. It wasn't the first time he'd felt pain like this, of course, but it _was_ the first time he could remember being this beaten up without Kryptonite being involved one way or another.

Caitlin flew straight towards him, visible again.

"Stop!" he cried, flinging up his hands in front of him.

Caitlin halted just where she was, a wild grin on her face. "Are you admitting defeat, Clark?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I am."

Her smile grew even wider as she descended straight towards him, hand extended to help him up. "Good man, Clark. You know when you're beaten, and you're not afraid to say you've lost. Humble of you, and wise."

"Thanks," he grumbled, taking her hand and standing.

As Clark wiped the dirt from his face and eyes he got a good look at Caitlin, who was standing four feet in front of him, panting slightly. He could tell she was hurting a little bit too, but nothing like he was. That burn on her arm was worse than he had first thought, extending all of the way from the center of her shoulder down halfway past her elbow onto her forearm. It also bled in various places, and was red and black all over. Other than that, she just had a few dirt smudges on her arms and face, sweat-matted hair and a sheen of sweat over her face and arms.

But that arm…

"Are you alright?" Clark asked, waving a hand at her arm.

She glanced at it and brushed her fingertips across it. "It's okay," she said, wincing slightly. "It hurts a little, but it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Yes, thanks, but I'm sure."

Clark wasn't wholly convinced, but he knew that he'd better let it go. "Well, this exercise only served to get both of us hurt and prove that you can kick my butt."

"That I can kick your butt in long-distance combat," she corrected. "And you know that it served much more purpose than that, Clark."

He nodded. "So… I didn't know that you could become invisible."

"I can't."

"But you disappeared just now! You can't tell me that you didn't do that, I saw you! I mean I saw you, and then I didn't. You—"

"Fooled you utterly," Caitlin said for him, laughing. "Clark, I can't become invisible. But I can alter the messages that your brain receives, therefore causing you to think you can't see me. Very difficult to do, nigh impossible. But I managed."

"So you can fool people into not seeing you?"

"With only one person at a time. I cannot do more, the pattern of brainwaves I have to look at and locate a specific one is very ornate and the single lines of thought themselves in the mess of which I have to locate a single, tiny, involuntary thought-pattern…"

"I get the picture," Clark said. "So, what now?"

Caitlin exhaled sharply, then said, "I think I'd like to try hand-to-hand with you. What do you say?"

"Hand-to-hand combat?" Clark asked. "I'm almost certain you can kick my butt again there…"

"How so?" Caitlin asked, a slightly shocked look marking her face. "You've got more brute strength than I've ever had, ever even hoped to have…"

Clark lifted an eyebrow. "Sure didn't help me much in this last contest, now did it?"

"Yes, but you've got to remember that telekinetics are really more of a long distance weapon in the first place."

"Besides, I may have strength, but you and I both know that strength is nothing compared with finesse," he prompted.

She didn't bite. "You may think so if you wish. Are you in or out?"

"Count me in." Clark sighed. "Should I count down this time?"

"Sure," Caitlin said, already walking further away.

Clark stepped forward several feet out of and away from his crater, aligning himself with Caitlin, who stood only ten feet away.

She stretched her arms and cracked her shoulders in anticipation, then settled into a fighting stance that kind of worried Clark.

"1…" he said slowly, measuring his breaths to make them normal. "2… 3… GO!"

Unlike with the first round, neither of them went ahead and jumped. Instead, they began an easily, slow circuit around towards each other, like couple of predators in a fight. They both kept the outside of the circle even, never going any closer to the other than they'd started.

Once they'd completed a half-circle, Caitlin winding up where Clark had been and vice versa, Caitlin stopped circling for a moment and so did Clark. Caitlin squatted down and let one leg go out in a spinning kick that hit nothing but air, obviously trying to demonstrate for Clark. The spin kick lasted for not one, but two revolutions, then Caitlin fell out of it gracefully, arms shooting out in a defense/offense move, her injured left arm coming up in a high block and her right flying out into a measured punch. In one fluid move, the single punch became a flurry of punches, alternating between both fists. Whichever arm was out in a strike, the other was always back, being a defense.

She ended with a flourish and took up another defensive stance.

The circling resumed.

"Some sort of martial art, I presume?" Clark asked her as he brought up his fists in a ready position once again.

"You presume correctly," Caitlin replied.

"How many years of expertise?"

"Four."

_Four years of mastering a martial art… Oh, crap…_

Now Caitlin wasted no time in striking feigning left and then snapping quickly right, hitting Clark's exposed side with a couple of quick blows.

He barely felt them in his strength, snapping around to cover his now vulnerable side. Caitlin snapped back to her left towards the side he'd just turned away from…

And nearly met face-to-face with Clark's fist.

She snapped up a telekinetic barrier just in time and Clark's fist bounced uselessly off of the invisible barrier.

Caitlin fell down sideways, her feet coming up towards the air, and Clark bent over to take advantage of her slip-up…

Only to find out it hadn't been a slip-up, it had been a maneuver. Her right foot came up and smacked fully across the side of his face, turning his head with the impact. If that hadn't been enough, her left foot came up under his fists and connected solidly with his stomach. He began to fall forward, doubling over with that impact, and her right foot, now over his head, came down hard on his back between his shoulder blades, knocking him flat to the ground.

Clark didn't hit the ground very hard this time, just hard enough for it to hurt.

Then before he knew it, Caitlin had his arms pinned to his back.

Her hard breathing came on the back of his neck. "Give up yet, Clark?"

"In your dreams," Clark breathed, and wrenched his whole body forward, then stopping quickly to toss Caitlin over his shoulders.

She hit the ground on her back, but used her momentum and strength to turn her tumble into a roll, taking her further away from Clark. She came out of the roll in a crouch, arms both raised in defense.

Clark came straight at her with both fists. His right hooked around to hit her…

She intercepted just like he'd expected. He kept pushing, trying to overpower her and she pushed back, just to keep his arm off. With all of her strength concentrated on his right arm, he brought his left around…

Caitlin couldn't get her arms around to block off Clark's left blow in time.

His fist smacked full force into her shoulder and she went flying backwards. She slammed into the ground instead of touching down, her head bouncing against the dirt repeatedly before she stopped, thirty feet away.

"Ow," she said shortly.

Clark moved on, straight towards her with both his fists raised…

"Stop," she said, raising both hands. "I'm beat."

Clark felt a smile creep across his face as he extended a hand to help her up.

She stood, and once again Clark wished he had never hurt her. Now her burn had dirt sticking to the bloody places, the shoulder he'd hit was already bruising, her unburned arm was scratched from places where small rocks or weeds had gotten in her way as she slid across the ground and a small trickle of blood leaked from the side of her mouth.

"Oh, my gosh, Caitlin, I'm so sorry!" Clark exclaimed. "I didn't mean to h—"

"Shh!" Caitlin snapped. "I'm alright Clark!" She brushed the blood from her lip away with the back of her hand. "Don't be sorry, you gave me a workout and proved to me something I've needed for a long time: I'm not invulnerable. I knew it, but no one was really able to prove it." She rolled her shoulders. "Punch me hard enough and I bleed like a normal person."

"But how are you going to explain it to your family?" Clark asked.

"I'm not." She closed her eyes and concentrated—Clark could tell by the way her eyes closed tighter and her brow tightened—but on what, he couldn't even begin to guess. But then, ever so slowly, he saw what she was doing and his jaw dropped wide open in amazement.

Slowly, the burnt skin started to… move. It rippled backward in time almost… it healed itself. Gradually, it became less red, less raised… And in a minute's time, it was virtually non-existent.

"H-h-how…?" Clark stammered.

Caitlin's dark eyes opened and a smile spread across her face. "Being telepathic means not only being in touch with the brainwaves and thought-patterns of others, but of oneself also. I can alter the messages being sent to my own brain by my arm and speed them up, causing impromptu healing. Even more difficult than altering someone else's thought patterns is healing oneself by altering one's own." She wiped some of the grunge from her face with the tail of her shirt as she said this, smearing it around with the sweat on her face.

"Wow," Clark said, at a loss for words. "Is there anything else that you can do that I might need to know about?"

"Well, let's see, grocery list of all I can do…" Caitlin counted on her fingers. "I can levitate things—including myself, I can create telekinetic shields, I can read people's thoughts, I can alter them, make people forget and not see things, alter thought-patterns for healing… I think that's everything. At least everything I know."

"Amazing," Clark breathed. "And you've mastered these skills by fifteen years old."

"Mastery, Clark, is not only a matter of opinion, but it has its levels," Caitlin said quietly. "You may say I have mastered them now, but in ten years, I could have mastered them even further. What would you say then? You mastered them by fifteen, but at twenty-five, you are even more powerful? No, you would say that at fifteen, I had a good grip, but I hadn't yet mastered them, but at twenty-five, I had."

Clark was beginning to realize how wise Caitlin was for a fifteen-year-old, but whether this was a side effect of being telepathic, or simply personal skill, he couldn't say. "I understand," he said. She didn't want him to call her a master anymore.

Rubbing her once-burned arm, she said, "Clark, I've got to get home." Gently, as she always was, she lifted into the air. "Don't say anything about this to anyone, even your parents, unless they ask you how you got banged up, please."

"I won't," Clark promised.

With a wave of good-bye, Caitlin flew off.

_That is one heck of a woman_, Clark thought as he watched her go. _Beyond that, she's one heck of a person._


	6. Floridians

**_Sorry if this took a little long... unexpected complications of all sorts flew my way... Anyway, this chapter focuses on Olivia's visit to Smallville, and really doesn't have much of a purpose but to bridge over to what's happening next. Sorry if it's boring._**

**_Once again, this one's dedicated to you, Livs. :) God only knows where I'd bewithout you._

* * *

**

Floridians in Kansas

Flight… Out of the window lay a beautiful blanket of chalky white clouds, unbroken, untouched, and virginal even. Beautiful, majestic… yet so simple.

"Miss, do you care for a drink?"

With slight reluctance, Olivia turned away from the sight outside of the window to the stewardess standing on the other side of Olivia's sleeping mom, in the aisle.

"Yes, thank you," Olivia said. "Sprite, please."

A small can of chilled soda now in her hand, Olivia turned back to the window just as there was a break in the cloud cover below. She couldn't tell much at this altitude, but it looked like a wide, grassy field below.

_Welcome to Kansas, Olivia Southwell_, she thought.

Kansas indeed. Home was a thousand miles away. The distance still shocked her.

"Welcome to Metropolis," the pilot's voice said over the intercom. "We'll be landing in under twenty minutes, cabin crew, please prepare the cabin for landing."

_Yeah, welcome to Metropolis,_ Olivia thought. _The welcome to Smallville is what I'm waiting for._

She just hoped it came quickly.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin shifted anxiously from foot to foot in the airport terminal, scanning the crowds of people that pushed by restlessly. Where the heck was she?

_You'll never be able to find her in this crowd, duh_, Caitlin thought. She stopped switching feet and concentrated, her eyes narrowing and her mind pushing outward across the crowd. She probed mind after mind looking for a specific one…

_Ah, there you are._

A smile started to bloom across her face as her best friend in the whole world hurried to her. Before they even reached each other, Olivia dropped her bags and extended her arms to engulf the taller Caitlin in a monstrous hug.

For a moment, they just hugged each other tightly, then Caitlin let go and picked up one of Olivia's bags. Olivia grabbed the other one, and motioned her mom forward to join them.

"How was the flight, guys?" Caitlin asked, heading back to where her own mother was waiting to take them home.

"It was okay," Mrs. Marla answered first.

"How would you know, Mom?" Olivia asked. "You were asleep the whole time!"

Caitlin smiled. This was the mother-daughter duo that she and her own mother called their best friends. She'd nearly forgotten just how much she missed them.

But she was going to make sure this weekend would remind her just how much better her life had felt with them in it.

X-X-X-X-X

"And welcome to Smallville, Kansas, Meteor Capital of the World," Caitlin announced hours later as they drove past the infamous Smallville sign that read just that. "And just as it should be, it's right in the middle of a cornfield."

"I take it you mean it speaks perfectly for the town?"

"Yeah. Most of this place is field after field after field…"

"Interesting. Fields like in south Georgia?"

"Nah, Livs, they're a little different. But the layout of the town itself is like some of them south Georgia ones we all know and love."

Olivia seemed to consider this, then nodded. "I hope your tour is very quick but extensive. I want to see what the heck this place is all about, but I also want time to just have fun."

"I predicted you'd say that, so I have it all planned. A quick, couple of hours of boring tour today—there's really not too much to see in Smallville, heck it's called Smallville—and then we go and hit the coolest coffee shop in town to make fun of the locals, you to meet some people, etcetera. Sound like fun to you?"

"Sure does," Olivia replied. "How soon do we start this fun-filled day?"

"As soon as we get back to the house, throw your stuff in my apartment, and hop in my precious Ol' Red," Caitlin answered. "With you driving, of course. I'll give you directions."

"Sounds good, Cait," Olivia said, her mind already beginning to anticipate the day's events. "I'm looking very forward and upward to it."

Translation: I'm ready to fly as soon as you are.

A smile spread across Caitlin's face. Gosh, she'd forgotten just how much she missed taking her friends on flights with her.

X-X-X-X-X

"Where do I park her?" Olivia asked over the purr—or rather quiet roar—of the engine of Caitlin's '87 Chevy Silverado.

Caitlin sat up straighter in the passenger's seat, glancing at their location. They were out in the edges of town, near Evan's Field. "Curve that way until you see the gap in the tree line, and then you can drive on inside the field. Park on the edge, just inside the tree cover."

Olivia nodded and steered the lumbering truck in the directions Caitlin had indicated. Once through the narrow gap in the trees, the tree line totally dropped away to reveal a wide, vast field. "And this is…?"

"Evan's Field," Caitlin answered as Olivia parked the truck.

"Who owns it?" Olivia asked as she stepped out of the truck and circled around its rusted front towards the center of the field and Caitlin.

"The Evan family," Caitlin answered, gazing out across the field. "Don't worry, they don't use it anymore… basically, it's just nothing."

Olivia strode over to Caitlin's side, and focused out where Caitlin seemingly was looking. She saw nothing, really. Just a wide, flat field covered in grass that reached her knees, surrounded on three sides by the tree cover that she'd just driven through and a small lake on the other. "Caitlin, what are you looking a—" She stopped herself from asking the question as she saw just what Caitlin was staring at.

At first glance, one would never see it. But staring at it, knowing something was there, it became obvious. The field was torn up. Seriously torn up. Olivia could see two or three big, deep craters in the ground, stretching down about five feet each. And aside from that were two deep gashes in the ground, one extending a full thirty feet. In other places there were… "scuff marks" was the only way Olivia could describe them. Fairly big scuffs in the grass and dirt, but not nearly as big as the gashes.

"Oh, my gosh, what the heck happened here?"

Caitlin breathed in and out deeply before she answered. "Me and Clark… uh, had a combat practice." She chuckled lightly. "And I found out the hard way that he can take a beating just as well if not better than I can."

Olivia's eyebrows rose as she scanned the damage closer. "Huh. I can see that."

"Long-distance combat-wise, I can totally whoop him. He's only got heat-vision as long distance goes, and I did whoop him with telekinetics. Smashed him into the ground multiple times—that's what them big craters are—but he got me once with his heat vision. Up close and personal, he whooped me. I've got finesse, he's got brute strength…"

"Nice match-up," Olivia commented. "You guys will make great partners."

"Sure, but not nearly as great as me and you, Livs."

"Aw, that's sweet," Olivia replied. "Now let's get going."

"Olivia, you're such a romantic," Caitlin joked. She stuck both hands out towards her best friend. "We'd better get going soon though."

"My thoughts exactly. Did you read 'em?" Olivia asked as she took Caitlin's hands.

"Olivia, I've been around you too long not to know what you're thinking—with or without telepathy," she replied, gripping her best friends hands tightly.

"In the words of a normal person, no."

"You've got that right."

Olivia reflexively braced herself a little as she began lifting into the air beside Caitlin. It was slow for the first five feet or so, then Caitlin picked up the pace.

They zoomed upwards into the sky gently and propelled by Caitlin's own powers. They went straight upwards until they graced the fringes of the clouds, then Caitlin let go of Olivia's left hand and she swung them out so that their stomachs were towards the ground and their backs to the sky.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat as she looked downward. Several thousand feet below them field after brilliant green field stretched onward, dotted by homes and some by animals. The roads and driveways served as dividers, showing the lines between each field's borders and the next one's.

"Beautiful, Cait," Olivia breathed.

"I know," Caitlin replied quietly.

_And I was entertained by the view out of the plane window_, she thought. The plane view wasn't very wide, but here, the view was complete.

Of course, Olivia had flown with Caitlin before, but never over fields like this. Back home, she'd flown with Caitlin down stretches of river and marsh that were generally deserted, but it was nothing like this.

_Flying with Psyche-Out… is the most amazing experience ever._

And for now, Olivia rested in the feeling of closeness with her best friend, and the joy that it brought her, wishing it never had to end.

X-X-X-X-X

The tour lasted just as long as Caitlin had detailed—two hours—and then she landed them back in Evan's Field. Still in a sort of a high dream state, Olivia drove Caitlin's Ol' Red into downtown Smallville, and parked it in front of what appeared to be a theater with a large sign that read "Talon".

"This is a coffee shop?" Olivia asked as she stepped out of the truck.

Caitlin nodded, and escorted Olivia inside.

"It's run by Lana Lang, the one I told you about," Caitlin said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The one that was on TIME magazine years ago when the meteors first hit."

"Ah."

"Don't say anything though. She's extremely sensitive to that matter."

"I understand."

They strode in through the wide glass doors into the oddly decorated coffee shop, moving immediately to a table. Caitlin took a seat with her back to the door and facing the counter and the coffee shop in general, and Olivia took a seat across from her.

Dark-haired, dark-eyed Lana Lang glided towards them a moment later. "Hi, Caitlin!" she said. "Who's this?"

"Olivia Southwell, meet Lana Lang, and Lana, meet Olivia," Caitlin answered, gesturing. As they shook hands, Caitlin said, "Olivia's my best friend. She's up from Florida for the weekend."

"Oh! How do you like Kansas, Olivia?" Lana asked.

"So far, so good," Olivia replied.

"So, what can I get you two to drink?" Lana asked, pulling out a pad and pen. "Hold on, Caitlin, let me guess… Just your usual mocha smoothie?"

Caitlin nodded.

She scribbled on her pad. "What about you, Olivia?"

"Um… Vanilla Chai tea, please," Olivia answered, glancing over the menu.

"Coming right up," Lana said, turning and leaving in the direction of the counter.

Olivia watched her go. "She seems very nice."

"She is, but she's got a bit of harshness under the surface."

"I suppose losing one's parents so young to an accident would have that effect on someone," Olivia said with a sigh.

"I'd have to agree."

Lana returned with a tray that had Olivia's tea, Caitlin's smoothie and a couple of cookies. "Here you go," she said, setting down the drinks in front of the two friends. "And I just thought I'd throw in a bit of dessert for you two."

Caitlin glanced down at her wrist to remind herself whether or not she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt—people tended to give her sugary things when they saw her bony wrists, the same with the even smaller Olivia—but she saw that she was and so was Olivia. So finally, someone was giving them something just to be nice, not to tell them they needed to gain weight.

"Thanks, Lana," Caitlin and Olivia chimed together as she turned and strode away.

"You're welcome," Lana answered over her shoulder.

The minute she turned her face away again, both Olivia and Caitlin dove for the cookies. Caitlin managed only to snatch the first one before Olivia grabbed the second.

"Ha!" Olivia said. "Getting slow in your lack of practice, Cait."

Caitlin grunted. "Yeah, I guess so."

She was just taking a bite from her cookie when someone said, "Caitlin?" behind her.

She didn't even have to turn her head to see who it was, the voice and mental signature said it all: Clark. She turned her head around just enough to see him and said, "Last time I checked, that was me."

Clark rolled his eyes and walked towards her. "And last time I checked, when someone calls your name, it means they want your attention, not your sarcasm."

"Hey, sorry but you get attention, you get sarcasm." Caitlin shrugged. "Though not always vice versa."

Clark rolled his eyes again, and gave her a look that said, "You really are that adamant about being sarcastic, aren't you?" Aloud, he said, "And I presume this is Olivia?"

"Let me see… She's too old to be my sister, not old enough to be my mom, obviously not from around here, that means—"

Clark ignored her and put out a hand towards Olivia. "Hi, I'm Clark Kent."

Olivia accepted and shook his hand. "Olivia Southwell."

"Has she always been this sarcastic?" Clark asked, releasing Olivia's hand.

"Let's see…" Olivia said, just as sarcastically as Caitlin always was. "Well… I guess there was one point—no, wait, she was then too. Huh… but what about—no, there too."

Clark groaned slightly. "Not another one!"

A grin split across Caitlin's face. "She's my best friend. What'd you expect?"

Now Clark smiled. "If I expected anything else, it was totally unreasonable."

"Thank you for admitting it, Clark," Caitlin said, still smiling as she sipped her smoothie.

Clark turned away for a moment to look at something… "Oh, Caitlin, there's someone I want you to meet," he said suddenly.

_Lex Luthor?_ Caitlin thought, turning.

But she was disappointed. As she turned, a short, middle-aged woman with red hair came into her line of sight.

_No, Martha Kent._

Caitlin had been waiting to meet Clark's mother, but she was also slightly disappointed that it wasn't Lex Luthor. She shook off her disappointment and stood to offer the woman her hand. "Caitlin O'Conner, Mrs. Kent," she said, opting to break her customary southern "Miss Martha" for the proper "Mrs. Kent".

Martha Kent took her hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Caitlin. Clark has told me so much about you!"

"And he speaks very highly of you too, Mrs. Kent." She turned and indicated Olivia. "And this is my best friend, Olivia Southwell."

"Hello, Olivia," Martha said, turning towards her.

"Hello, Mrs. Kent," Olivia replied with a nod, obviously following Caitlin's example with the Miss/Mrs. thing. "News of you traveled down through the channels."

Martha's face seemed to redden slightly. "Oh, well… I just hope it was good news."

Caitlin opened her mouth to say something, and Clark quickly put a hand over it. "Don't you say _anything_." His eyes added, "Just leave your sarcastic mouth shut."

Martha glared at Clark. "Clark, be nice!" she whispered, like he was two.

Caitlin grabbed Clark's hand and pushed it away from her face. "Yeah, Clark, be nice! I was just going to tell your mother that it's all good news." She let her eyes imply otherwise.

Clark sighed slight relief. "Oh, sorry."

Caitlin acted annoyed and put her nose in the air. "I guess I can accept that." Then a smile spread across her face and she dropped the sarcasm. "Really, it's ok."

"Good," Martha Kent said. "Well, we'll leave you two to your catching up."

Caitlin smiled and nodded a good-bye. "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Kent."

"Same here, Mrs. Kent," Olivia spoke up from across the table.

"Well, it was nice to meet both of you, and Olivia I hope you enjoy your stay in Smallville," Martha Kent said, turning to go. She stopped and added over her shoulder, "And you can both call me Miss Martha, I know you're dying to."

"Thank you, Miss Martha," Caitlin said. "It was beginning to get difficult to remember to say 'Mrs. Kent'."

Martha gave them a warm smile, then left the Talon.

After a quick, "See you later," Clark turned and left too.

"You and Clark seem to be pretty good friends," Olivia said with an arched brow as Caitlin sat down.

Caitlin glanced up at her, frowning. "Yeah, I guess." Then Olivia's thoughts hit her. "Oh, Olivia! Don't worry, he's nowhere near the kind of friend you are."

Olivia snorted. "He'd better not be. I find him encroaching on my territory and he's going to be dead, no matter how strong he is."

"You have nothing to fear, Livs."

"Not even from him… thinking romantically?"

Caitlin nearly choked on her smoothie. "Oh, my gosh, what did you just say?"

"You heard me. I'm afraid he might see you as becoming more than a friend."

"No, no, no," Caitlin denied. "There's no way. He sees me as a friend, and that's all."

"What did he say when you asked him to be partners?"

"Um, he said… and I quote, 'Uh, yeah, sure. Partners.' That's all."

"Did it ever occur to you, wise big-brained Caitlin, that he might think you meant like a boyfriend/girlfriend partnership?"

"Not really," Caitlin admitted. "But I would've known if he thought that." Her voice dropped extremely low, so that Olivia had to lean forward to hear. "Besides the fact that he's totally in love with Lana Lang."

"But I didn't get the impression they were together."

"They're not," Caitlin said. "If I understand it correctly, they were, but then something serious happened and they split. Clark wanted time off, and he expected Lana to wait, she didn't… and now they're just friends. But he's still in love with her. I can feel it."

"Being in love with her might not mean anything."

"Clark's too innocent for a double-love," Caitlin said, getting slightly annoyed. "He's… just not that kind of guy. Besides the fact that I sense nothing in him towards me, I think I freak him out a little."

"Obviously not too much since he's still around," Olivia replied with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't worry, and don't mess with it. If anything comes up—which I doubt it will—I can deal with it."

Olivia sighed and said, "I hope so for your sake and his, Cait."

X-X-X-X-X

They spent hours in the Talon, joking around, catching up, remembering great times… They were there until dinner time, at which they left the Talon and went to a small, casual restaurant. There they carried on the same way they had at the Talon, annoying some of the other customers. It was late when they made it back to Caitlin's apartment, and they both plopped down on their beds—Caitlin sacrificed her queen-sized bed for Olivia and took the guest roll-out—and fell fast asleep.

It was late when they woke up on Saturday morning, but that was okay because Saturday was for total relaxation…

They went down into the main house's kitchen to find left-over pancakes sitting out for them, probably left there by their mothers as they headed out that morning.

They ate in relative silence, and then awoke Caitlin's sister Lexi and her best friend Kelsey, who had flown in later the day before.

Now the complete quartet they had often been over the years, they spent almost all day out on Crater Lake, swimming, canoeing and laughing uncontrollably most of the time.

Caitlin hadn't been so happy since leaving Yulee.

When they could swim no more—which was very late, Floridians love water—they went home and changed for the dinner they were planning for that night. They took Caitlin's old truck, squeezing a little.

The dinner was nice, and they talked for a long time.

It was fairly early when they made it back to the farm, though: they had to get up fairly early Sunday. They all slept well, very contented and happy to have had such a wonderful day with their closest friends in the whole world.

Sunday morning they got up and went to church at the O'Conners' church: Holy Water Christian Fellowship of Smallville. Sunday afternoon was spent with the whole O'Conner family, having a family game day. Board games of all sorts found their way to the dining room table, everything from Bingo and Boggle to Cranium, CLUE, and Twister. The evening was spent doing whatever the teenage girls wanted, and they mostly talked and played more games.

And now that leaves us at early Monday morning.

X-X-X-X-X

Good-byes are nigh always an awful thing, saying "I'm leaving now" to someone you've know. Enemies are often easy to bid farewell to, friends nigh impossible. But no matter the difficulties, good-byes are often required.

Caitlin absolutely hated good-byes, especially ones required of those she loved.

"Don't worry, Cait, it's only for a few months," Olivia said into Caitlin's sour mood.

_And I thought I was the telepathic one._

Caitlin glanced over at her as she walked out to the car with her. Caitlin's mom—Mrs. Angie—was going to drive Olivia, Mrs. Marla and Kelsey back to Metropolis to catch their return flight, while Caitlin and Lexi both went on to school like normal. So this was good-bye, for now.

"Yeah, only for a few months," Caitlin grumbled.

"Cait, I mean it. Don't worry. Time will fly if you don't dwell on it."

"Where'd you hear that great bit of advice?"

"From you," Olivia answered. "A few years ago when I told you I absolutely couldn't stand to wait." She shrugged. "I didn't dwell on it, time flew like there was no tomorrow, and I was happy that I'd taken your advice. Now your advice is mine to you. Take your own advice, Cait, and everything will be alright." Caitlin said nothing, so Olivia added, "What good is wisdom if you don't apply it to yourself?"

Caitlin sighed. "You're right." She glanced up—or rather down since Olivia was shorter—and smiled. "I'll be okay as long as you are."

"Now that's what I wanted to hear." Olivia pulled her into a hug. "Go out and have some fun for me," she whispered into Caitlin's ear. "And kick some criminal butt as soon as possible."

Caitlin's smile grew even larger. "I will," she promised as she let go.

Olivia returned the smile, wrinkling her freckled cheeks. "Good-bye, Caitlin. I'll call you when I get home."

"Bye, Livs."

As she turned and climbed in the truck, Caitlin thought at her back, _Don't you worry either, Livs. I'll make these five months pass fast just for you._

_

* * *

**So, there it is: the bridge to the next chapter. I know it's weak in some places, and sorry for that, but please, review anyway.**_

**_And try and see if you can guess from my hints what the next chapter will hold._**


	7. Romance

**_Ah, ha! The romance Liz has been looking for! As if the title didn't give that away... Anyway, I'm sorry that it's so long, but I had to squeeze in some of the things you fans wanted... Like Lex Luthor, and romance...Anyway, I've dabbled in drama, action/adventure and now romance with this story, and will be adding slight spiritual and mystery to the stack soon. Enjoy!_

* * *

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**Clark… Makes a Move**

The Luthor mansion was huge, hundreds of rooms that really served no purpose other than show… But once it had been a family castle in Scotland. Before Lionel Luthor had had it moved to Smallville, Kansas just for display. It still held that majestic, middle-ages feel, and one would almost feel as though they had stepped back in time wandering through its doors.

Right into the kingdom of the mansion's owner, one Lex Luthor.

He was Smallville's own resident billionaire, son of possibly the world's most successful entrepreneurial mind, Lionel Luthor.

And Clark Kent, that Kansas farmboy that was actually an alien from a planet called Krypton millions of light-years away, was Lex's best friend.

X-X-X-X-X

"Lex, Chloe told me earlier that you wanted to see me?"

Lex Luthor finished chalking up his cue stick and threw a glance at Clark as he walked through the room's double doors.

"Yeah, Clark," Lex said, lining up a shot. He tapped the cue ball with enough power to send it rolling down the table to break the formation of the other balls. He straightened his stance and continued, "I'm having a dinner party in Metropolis on Tuesday night. I want you to be there."

Clark frowned. "Why me?"

"Because you represent the average raised-on-a-farm kid in Smallville," Lex answered, lining up another shot. The ball dropped right in the hole. "And I want you there to have fun if the night turns boring for me." He flashed Clark a rare smile.

"Ah, so I'm there for show?"

"You could put it that way Clark, but it wouldn't exactly be on target. Close, but not on target. You see, we're doing some research most likely beneficial to the common farmer, but some of my board members are skeptical. They need a farmboy representative." Another ball found its way into a pocket.

"Ah, I see." Clark shrugged. "Sure, Lex, I'll be there."

Lex smirked, the only smile he ever wore. "Good. A limo will be by to pick you up at about six, take you to the party and take you home afterwards."

Clark nodded. "I'll be ready, Lex."

As Clark turned and strode back out the double-doors, Lex called after him, "And, Clark?" Clark turned over his shoulder. "Don't forget to bring a date."

Clark smiled to himself at that last addition, thinking Lex couldn't see.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin dug through drawer after drawer on Clark's desk, searching for those stupid notes he'd taken on the English teacher, Ms. Ilano, last week… She had made a serious mess digging through his stuff and some might consider it wrong to even be digging in the first place… But his stuff was already such a disorganized mess that Clark wouldn't even notice unless he walked in, and Caitlin was almost certain he wouldn't care.

Dadgumit, where the heck were those notes?

She groaned aloud and kept digging.

"I assume that there's a perfectly good reason why you're digging through Clark's desk?" a familiar feminine voice said behind her.

Caitlin nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd been so focused on finding those notes that she hadn't even sensed anyone coming. That was very strange: her mental awareness of people within three rooms' width was generally as precise as a military radar.

She turned towards the source of the voice.

Chloe Sullivan was standing there, glaring at Caitlin with both of her brows both raised.

Caitlin straightened from over the desk, smiling sheepishly at her editor. "Um, yeah, I was looking for those notes he took on Ms. Ilano. I need them for something and it's rather urgent." When the expression on Chloe's face didn't change, she added, "Um, Clark gave me permission."

Even as she said this, a familiar, male mental signature found its way into the edge of Caitlin's radar. _Oh, crap_, she mentally muttered to herself.

"Well, if Clark gave you permission, then I guess it's ok," Chloe said, sitting down behind her own desk and sipping her precious coffee. "I really shouldn't even get involved."

"Uh, yeah." Quickly, Caitlin tried to fix the mess she'd made. But she wasn't quite fast enough today.

"Good morn—ah!" Clark's voice came from behind her. "Caitlin, what the heck are you doing?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Caitlin turned around. "Good morning, Clark," she said to his utterly stunned face. "Um, I was just looking for those notes on Ms. Ilano? I need them right away… Very important."

Reaching around her to pick up a stack of papers, Clark asked, "Important enough to go rummaging through all of my stuff?" He handed her the stack of papers, on which the title clearly read "Ms. Ilano, English Teacher".

"Oh," Caitlin said, taking the papers as she knew her face began to flush lightly.

"I thought you said that you had his permission," Chloe said from across the room at her desk.

Clark turned to Caitlin with a raised brow that said, "You lied?"

"Hey!" she cried, throwing her hands up. "You told me last week that if I ever needed any of your notes or stuff, not to hesitate to get them. I didn't!"

Clark rolled his eyes, and Chloe laughed.

"Clark, I thought you would have known by now that she's pretty capable of twisting your own words just like she twists her own," Chloe laughed, as she stood up. "You seem to be pretty slow on catching the complexity of Caitlin O'Conner. Anyway, I've got to get going. I'm meeting my cousin from Metropolis for lunch." With that, she hurried out of the office.

Clark watched her go with a strange expression on his face. Turning back to Caitlin—who had moved away from Clark's desk and over to her own—he said, "Yes, I do seem pretty slow in grasping the concept of a smart, wise, sarcastic, semi-pain-in-the-butt telepathic girl."

Caitlin gave him a wide grin. "Most people are, farmboy."

"Caitlin, I've got something to ask you," Clark said suddenly.

Caitlin's eyes snapped towards him immediately. Something in the way his thoughts whirled and turned quickly caught her attention and made her nervous.

"Um… Lex Luthor is having a dinner party of sorts in Metropolis tomorrow night," he started slowly, obviously nervous. Caitlin waved for him to continue. "And I'm invited, and he told me to bring someone with me. I was wondering if you'd like to go."

Caitlin's eyes widened slightly, but she said, "Sure."

"I mean, just as friends," Clark added quickly. "I didn't mean it like a date or anything, just friends going to a party—"

"Clark!" Caitlin cut him off. "Don't have a nervous breakdown! I knew what you meant. That's a benefit of having a telepathic friend: she'll always know _exactly _what you mean. Never any embarrassing ambiguous misunderstandings."

Clark seemed to like that thought and said, "I suppose that is the upside."

Both of them exchanged smiles.

X-X-X-X-X

Clark stepped up to the door and touched the doorbell, his nerves refusing to calm down. This was the main house, as far as he could tell… he could see a trail leading off past the cornfield and an apartment-style building behind this main house, just as Caitlin had described. His mind wandered back to the first day he had met her, and to her explanation of the O'Conner homestead.

If he remembered correctly, Caitlin's three younger siblings and their parents inhabited this country-styled home, and one of them should answer.

Sure enough, right after the ring he heard sounds of people shuffling around inside, and someone coming to the door. When the door did swing open, standing there was a small, lightly freckle-faced, dark-haired boy probably eleven or twelve years old, looking a little like Caitlin in the face, but in no other way.

Before Clark could even speak, the boy said, "I guess you're Clark?"

"Yeah," Clark answered. "I'm here to pick up Caitlin."

"I know what you're here to do, doofus," the boy retorted. "Just come on in."

As he turned and led Clark into the house, Clark thought, _Oh, no… I hope he's the only one that's picked up sarcasm from her. A whole family of sarcastics…_ He couldn't even begin to describe how much that would annoy him.

As he strode into what was obviously the living room behind the boy, he saw six other people sitting on couches, obviously waiting for him.

Immediately, a tall, thin, middle-aged man probably only an inch or two shorter than Clark stepped up and offered his hand. "Hello, Clark. I'm Dale O'Conner, Caitlin's father."

Clark shook the man's hand firmly. "Hello, Mr. O'Conner."

A heavy-set woman probably only five feet tall came towards him next, her hand extended. "And I'm Angelia O'Conner, Caitlin's mother." Clark shook her tiny hand gently. "And Clark, I hope it's not too mean of us, but we'd like to introduce you to the entire family."

_Oh, great… Just make sure you remember them, Clark_, he told himself.

Mrs. O'Conner stepped back, and gestured to an equally heavy-built man shy of six feet sitting on a couch. "That's Aaron—not O'Conner, Bell—Caitlin's oldest brother."

_Half-brother_, Clark thought as he nodded at the man.

Aaron returned the greeting nod as Mrs. O'Conner continued. "And this is Allison, Aaron's wife." She indicated the blonde woman beside Aaron.

"Hi," she said in what was obviously the voice of a shy person.

"Hello," Clark replied.

"This is Lexi, Kendall, and Daniel," Mrs. O'Conner continued, first a short girl probably about thirteen, second the boy that had opened the door for Clark, and lastly a boy about the same height as Kendall, though lighter haired, rounder-faced and obviously younger.

They all said, "Hi," and smiled at Clark politely.

"Well, Clark, we won't scare you any more or bombard you with more names you won't be able to remember," Mrs. O'Conner said. "Caitlin should be down in a moment. Make yourself comfortable."

Even as Clark started to comply and settle down on the couch closest to him, a voice he had come to recognize very well over the past month drifted down the stairwell towards him.

"That won't be necessary, Mama," Caitlin said as she moved down the stairs.

Clark turned to look, and his heart fluttered at the sight of Caitlin. She wore a beautiful, semi-formal gown that ended halfway past her knees, showing just enough of her well-formed legs to make her look like a leggy teenager. The dress was golden and latched around the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders and a large portion of her back bare. Clark hadn't noticed just how tanned she was until he saw the comparison with the gold of the gown. Now he did: she'd spent many years in the sun, just as nigh all Floridians did. Her golden hair was swept back away from her face, pinned behind her head in an ornate set of circles and swirls…

"Stop staring and shut your mouth," Caitlin ordered him. "You're drooling on your suit."

Quickly, he snapped his mouth shut and swallowed. "Wow," was all he could manage to say. But when he noticed Caitlin's father and older brother staring at him with strange looks, he added, "Uh, we'd better get going," and offered her his arm.

She ignored it completely.

"Sis, be good, and be back by ten," Mr. O'Conner said to her.

Caitlin gave her dad a smile, and said, "Yes, sir."

Echoes of her family's "Have fun, Sis," and "Be good, Caitlin," followed them down the hallway as they hurried out the front door and to the waiting limo. The driver was standing there, waiting with the door open as they hopped in.

"You look nice," Clark commented her as the car began to pull out of the O'Conners' driveway and head towards the highway.

"I kind of guessed you thought that when your mouth dropped open, you drooled and kept staring," Caitlin replied. "Anyway, enjoy these good looks, because they're getting on my nerves so bad that I just might have to smack you in a minute just to get rid of all of this irritation."

Clark arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"Take notes, farmboy. A: I hate skirts and dresses with a passion. B: high heels totally suck. C: pulled-back hair gives me headaches. D: make-up, even this tiny bit, feels like a mountain of dried mud caked on your face." She turned and glared at him. "Does that clear it up?"

"No, that would mean you hate all of the things that most girls love, and that scares me just a little bit."

One of her eyebrows went up. "I'm different, and that scares you?"

"A little."

"My philosophy in the words of my mother: 'Be who you are. As long as who you are honors God, appearances don't matter.' There's nothing wrong with me not wanting to put myself in discomfort or pain for the sake of appearances."

"If only the rest of the world felt that way," Clark murmured.

"If only," Caitlin mumbled back. In an obvious attempt to change the subject she said, "So, just wondering… Did any of my family make any remarks that reminded you of me?"

"Your little brother…_ Kendall_," he identified after a moment of thought, "said something rather sarcastic when he opened the door, but other than that, no."

"Ah, they spared you."

"What?"

"My whole family is just as sarcastic and smart-alecky as I am, if not worse. Especially my dad, when given the chance. He taught us kids well."

"Great," Clark mumbled.

Caitlin's smile turned towards him and she said, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

X-X-X-X-X

A few hours later, the limo pulled them up in front of a large, fancy hotel whose sign read "The Royal Blade". The door was opened for them, and they strolled down the stretch of golden-colored carpet feeling like celebrities. The wide, double doors baring a big RB insignia opened for them, and they were guided towards the ballroom where the party was being held.

As they moved towards the ballroom, Caitlin began to get more and more nervous. She knew that she was about to join a party of people who had more money at this moment than she'd probably ever earn in a lifetime, who had more money than her family could ever hope to have. She also knew she would soon be meeting Lex Luthor. Somehow, that made her even more nervous.

These were high-class people, and she was not exactly a well-mannered person as they might expect. She was from the southern countryside, and as a general rule at home, she wasn't anywhere close to being a perfect-mannered lady. Of course she knew proper manners, and she had used them on several occasions, but she was still afraid she would slip somewhere along the line and embarrass herself.

_You have nothing to fear from these people_, she told herself. _So they've got a ton of money and are entirely stuck-up. Doesn't mean nothin'. You be yourself, but with better manners, and you'll be perfectly alright. Doesn't mean nothin'._ She drew in and then released a slightly shuddering breath that drew a glance from Clark.

"Nervous?" he murmured.

She nodded in reply.

"Don't be."

Caitlin smirked. "Great words of wisdom, Clark."

Wonder of all wonders, he didn't roll his eyes at her sarcasm this time, but smiled. "Really, don't worry. There's nothing life-threatening here, like previous situations you must've been in."

"Even better words of wisdom, farmboy."

This time, he _did_ roll his eyes.

Ahead of them, the doors to the ballroom swung open and Caitlin drew in and released a deep breath again, telepathically putting herself at ease. Clark offered his arm again, and she pushed it back at him whispering, "Don't tempt me; I'm in the kind of mood where I might just break it for fun."

Clark withdrew his arm quickly, and settled for simply matching strides with her as they walked into the full ballroom.

Majestic and probably extremely costly chandeliers hung from the ceiling, pouring pure golden light and light that refracted through the crystals all over the ballroom. Finely dressed people were spread across the dining room, a particularly large group by the full, classical band in the corner. Nearly every one of the high-class people had a wine glass in their hands, and waiters in white suits weaved through the crowd bringing glasses to those that didn't.

Slowly, Caitlin became aware of a great portion of people's attention in her direction, and she felt her face begin to flush slightly as she looked down to make sure that nothing was out of place… But she saw nothing wrong, actually quite the opposite.

The light of the chandeliers had caught the color of her dress and it sparkled brilliantly. The pure light had cast a full, untouched, pure gold look across her entire dress, and the bits of rainbow refractions hit certain points, causing certain points to appear like multi-colored gems across the gold. All-in-all, she thought she looked like a piece of jewelry.

Her face flushed even brighter as she realized just how many people were staring. "Oh, Lord, help me…" she murmured.

"Don't worry, you're—" Clark started then stopped as he glanced sideways at her. "Oh, wow," he breathed at the site of her. "Caitlin, you—"

"Don't say a word," she snapped. "I know what you're going to say, but don't say it."

"I was going to say something nice!"

"Don't you think I know? I still don't want to hear it."

Clark went ahead and said it anyway. "You look like an angel."

"Dang it, I told you not to say it! Give me that arm now so I can break it!"

Clark instinctively drew it closer to him, and looked at Caitlin like she was crazy. He probably thought she was. Most girls would take that as a compliment, but Caitlin wanted to fade into the background of this party, not be the star. Or angel, as Clark put it.

But she tried not to show her discomfort as she strode onward beside Clark, who was guiding her towards one specific knot of people…

Then Caitlin noticed one person in particular, right in the middle of the crowd. A medium-heighted bald man that she immediately identified as Lex Luthor.

Finally, she was getting to meet _the_ Lex Luthor.

As Luthor spied Clark out of the corner of his eye, he ended his conversation with that group of people and they drifted off like pond fish from a feeding after the food was all gone.

Clark began, "Hey, Lex, this is Caitlin O'Conner…" as Luthor turned and really saw Caitlin for the first time… She saw he was impressed by her "angelic" appearance, but not overly wowed as Clark and a few other people had been. "And Caitlin, this is Lex Luthor."

She knew that if she offered her hand, he was most likely to do the "proper" thing and kiss it, so she offered it slanted, perhaps a little bit too obviously avoiding the "proper" thing. She did not enjoy anyone kissing her hand, especially those she had just met. Even if it was proper procedure. No, _especially_ if it was proper procedure.

Luthor caught her drift and shook her hand instead of kissing it.

"Nice to finally meet you, Caitlin," Luthor said.

"And you, Mr. Luthor," Caitlin replied, opting to go with the formal title and last name instead of his given name. "Clark speaks of you very often."

"Oh, I doubt he speaks as much to you about me as he does to me about you," Luthor said. "Every few sentences he speaks your name. He has only the nicest things to say, too."

"And of course the same about you," Caitlin replied. "I doubt Clark could ever say a nasty word about anyone." With this she added a smile directed at Clark.

"Agreed," Luthor said.

A formal introduction conversation like that carried on for a few more minutes before Luthor said, "So, Clark tells me that you're from Florida."

"Oh, yes. That faraway sunshiny state on the ocean," she murmured, a slight pang of longing touching her heart.

"Do you miss home?"

Caitlin smiled. "Of course I do. Kansas is all well and good in its own way and right, but in my opinion there's no way to rival Florida. But of course anyone who grew to love their state over the course of several years would say the same thing."

Luthor nodded. "And I also heard your father works for an industrial company that has just opened a plant in the area…?"

"Oh, yes. I'm somewhat surprised Clark hasn't already told you that my dad is the supervisor of JaxAm Industrial Corporation's Metropolis plant."

"Really? Dale O'Conner is your father? My company does a lot of business with his."

"Yes, I know."

"And he knows that one of his 'business partners' per se is the one arranging this whole party?"

"Yes. I believe that's one of the main reasons he let me come."

"Well, I'm glad he let you come. I was waiting to finally meet you."

Caitlin smiled lightly, and said, "Yes, I was waiting to meet you too." In her mind, she added, _I just wish I didn't have to come to a formal party where I drew on so much attention to do so. Besides, it's too hard to read the gist of your thought patterns here._

X-X-X-X-X

A few hours later, the party was dying down as Clark searched for Caitlin, who had somehow managed to disappear for the last ten minutes. He had combed the ballroom searching, even using his X-ray vision to see past people on occasion.

Still no Caitlin.

And then he noticed someone was out on the balcony that over looked the cityscape of Metropolis. A very tall woman with a golden dress.

He began threading his way through the dwindling crowd towards the door to the balcony. Before he even reached the huge glass doors, Caitlin turned to glance at him over her shoulder, and when he stopped, she tipped her head to motion for him to come on out.

He did, strolling out onto the wide stone balcony beside her.

She was leaning forward, arms resting on the banister, face turned out across the dark, but light-speckled cityscape, and he followed suit.

"I got tired of all of the high-class people in there, especially those staring at me," she answered his unasked question. "I couldn't stand the feelin' of their attention on me. I was ok before I was telepathic, but now it's nigh impossible to stand." She sighed deeply, and Clark could tell she was really tired.

"I see," he said, knowing he couldn't say he understood.

For a moment, they were both silent, just standing there staring out across the city.

"So breathtaking," Caitlin finally murmured. "So many people, altogether, each with their uniquely own self in every way…" Clark got the impression she was talking about the mental things she could read from the masses of people in the area. "The wonder of it all is that even being as special as I am, I could never even begin to understand the majesty of it if I lived a thousand years."

Clark glanced at her, a surge of feelings running through his heart as he saw her face and realized that in his mind, he was saying the same thing pertaining to her. She was so utterly amazing to him, that words could not even begin to describe it. Here she was, a young, fifteen year old girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and not only was she bearing it well, she was flourishing underneath it—a goal he'd always hoped to accomplish. She was as wise as any one he'd ever met, wiser than most people who he'd ever read about, and yet a fraction of their age. She somehow managed to be that wise, and yet be so sarcastic and smart-alecky at times that it frustrated him to his very core. Caitlin was smart, with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, a mixture that both astounded and pleased Clark, as well as irritating him. She herself was an astonishing mixture of traits and qualities that were almost impossible.

At that moment, he became aware that she was staring back at him, probably following the courses of his thoughts. Before now, that would have irritated him, but now he found that he was almost pleased she knew what he was thinking.

That meant he'd never have to get it out in words and mess everything up, as he had with Lana.

At that moment, Lana Lang was forgotten as he leaned towards Caitlin to kiss her. His mind was already imagining how heavenly it would feel, and his heart was pounding in his ears.

Inches from where her face was, he felt two hands come up to touch his collar bone on either side of his neck and restrain him from moving in any further. "Clark, don't."

Irritation flashed through him at a lightning pace. "Why not, Caitlin?"

"Because I can't get started with this. With you."

"Why not?" he asked, finally opening his eyes. "I thought we were having a tender moment just now."

"You fool yourself. I don't do tender guy/girl moments. I don't date."

"Don't they always say 'there's a first time for everything'?"

"I guess they do, but my first date won't be comin' for many more years." When he arched an eyebrow at her, she continued. "I promised myself years ago that I'd get my life goin'—really goin'—before I even _thought_ about gettin' involved with guys. I've watched other people's lives fall apart over relationships, and I swore to myself that I'd get myself through college and start my career before I started even lookin' for that kind of companionship."

"But I think…" he hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. "I think I love you."

Caitlin laughed lightly. "No, you don't. You fool yourself again. You love Lana Lang, and you think you love me."

"No, I'd be willing to forget Lana for you."

She shook her head. "No, don't give up Lana. You love her, and you're wrong about lovin' me. Clark, you haven't fallen in love with me, you've fallen in love with who you think I am. You see me as the ideal girl for you: special, powerful, willin' to accept you keepin' secrets, and relatively faultless. I'm special and powerful Clark, but I don't want you keepin' secrets one, and I'm nowhere near faultless. Just because I haven't exposed you to the dark side of me doesn't mean it's not there."

"I never thought it wasn't there."

"Did you forget that you can't lie to me?" Caitlin shook her head again. "Clark, you never thought that someone like me could have a downside. Newsflash: everyone on the face of this earth has a downside. My downsides may not be as obvious as other people's, but they're present nonetheless."

"But—"

Caitlin stopped him before he went any further. "Clark, come see me in five to six years, and then you can take your shot. Until then…" She stuck out her hand and slightly grudgingly, he shook it. "Friends, and just friends. Except when we're superheroes… then you can call us partners."

"Friends, and just friends," he repeated.

At the moment, all he could feel was longing for those five years to pass quickly, so that maybe, just maybe he could take his shot.

* * *

**_Ok, I want you fans/reviewers to come up with the term for Clark/Caitlin relationship, please:) Not that it really matters... Anyway, reviews away!_**


	8. Patience

**_Chapter 8 is here! I'm sorry if it took long... I was sick for a couple of days, busy for a few, took a day-long break to let myself recieve new inspiration, etc._**

**_Before you get to reading... I would like for you to tell me in your reviews one or more of the following things: Which chapter is your fave, which of Caitlin's sarcastic remarks is your fave, which aspect of Caitlin do you like the most, do you like Caitlin's sarcasm... Ok, I think that's all..._**

**_Liz213Mast: please email me your idea at before you get to Chapter 8, I would like you to read a small bit of Chapter 7 that I left off, partially by accident, partially on purpose. NEway... here._**

**_Oh, and this tiny one's dedicated to you, JB. Thanks for your comments, and for catching my mistakes, however few. :) God Bless You.

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**A forgotten piece of Chapter 7, entitled "If you like flannel and plaid…"**

Absently, Caitlin clicked on the Yahoo! Messenger icon on her desktop, bringing up the list of her online friends. As usual, the only one on this late at night—it was just past midnight—was the friend whose name was listed as JB: Jessica Brand. Caitlin double clicked on the name, hoping that Jessica was really there, and hadn't just left her computer on, as she was so fond of doing.

The individual window came up and Caitlin typed in her message.

ME: Hey, Jess, you there?

JB: Yeah.

ME: Good. I need to talk to someone.

JB: yeah, and to you, i'm just "someone"!

ME: I'm not in the mood, Jess.

JB: oh, ok, sorry… what's got ya in a bad mood?

ME: Clark Kent.

JB: what'd the dork do now?

ME: Uh… try to kiss me…

JB: (chokes on air) OMG, he did WHAT!

ME: You saw right, he tried to… kiss me…

JB: I hope you told the freak to back off

ME: Yeah, not in those exact words tho

JB: what DID you tell him?

ME: That I didn't date and to look me up in five years after I'm done with college.

JB: you could've given him my number… Livs said he's a hunk.

ME: W/e. If you like flannel and plaid, I suppose he is.

JB: yuck, nvm

ME: lol. Speaking of Livs, where is she? I haven't been able to get a hold of her for the past few days.

JB: her and her fam took off for Maw-Maw's this weekend

ME: The weirdo didn't tell me.

JB: well it wasn't exactly planned that they'd dash off to her grandma's house, two hours away… family emergency, duh, Cait

ME: oh, ok… next time you hear from her, tell her about this… situation and tell her to call me.

JB: ok, I will… Mom's calling… I've g2g…

ME: ok… good night, Jess.

JB: 'night, Cait.

Caitlin Xed out of the window, left to her own ponderings about that night's events. She'd pushed Clark away, just as she'd always pushed guys away for the sake of her promise and her goals in life. Clark was just another one to be turned away, and she felt no remorse in pushing him back. But somehow, she knew he wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't date him.

She'd warned him away, but it was up to him to take that warning.

Somewhere, she had a feeling he wouldn't.

Gradually, leaning back in her swiveling desk chair, she became aware that she was still wearing her golden gown. She scowled down at the cursed thing, itching her shoulder where the edge of the neck line chafed her skin. Her shoulders were itching, her legs were feeling exposed and her movements hampered by the cloth, and her back was cold… She stood, and was abruptly reminded that her feet were aching. Curse those stupid high-heels! She'd gotten rid of them in the limo on the way back, but still they managed to cause her pain.

With a sigh, she changed from the golden gown that had attracted everyone's attentions into her pajamas and plopped down on her bed, hoping that with sleep, she could forget this mess that Clark had made.

* * *

**_Slight preword... Some religious comments in the first little bit... And I hope you enjoy these quotes on patience and wisdom. They are some of my favorites.

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_**

**Lesson Two: Patience and Wisdom**

_Patience is… to keep going when the going is hard and slow—that is patience_. –Unknown

_But let Patience have her perfect work, that you may perfect and entire, wanting nothing_. –James 1:4 (New King James Version)

_Patience is the companion of Wisdom. _–Saint Augustine

_Wisdom is more valuable than jewels, and everything to be desired is nothing beside her. _Proverbs 8:11

_The doors of Wisdom are never shut_. –Benjamin Franklin

_I am Lady Wisdom, and I live next to Sanity; Knowledge and Discretion live just down the street. _Proverbs 8:12 (the Message)

_Nine-tenths of wisdom is being wise in time_. –Theodore Roosevelt

X-X-X-X-X

_Those who seek only to call themselves wise shall find nothing, those who search to further themselves and others will find everything._

_Search for others, search for yourself._

This had become a routine for her many years ago, even before telepathy had been gifted to her by God. Meditation. The act of turning oneself inward to forget all that was on the outside and to find oneself on the inside. She could no more go without it daily now as she could without breathing.

She knew if she stopped reflecting and seeking to further herself from the inside, she would fail in her job as a hero. The weight on her shoulders would crush her if she stopped.

She sighed gently.

When she retreated to this space far inside herself for her reflections, her perceptions of the outer world increased to a larger, finer picture, but they also faded back a level where she could sense them second to her thoughts. Her mental awareness of the area was sharper, clearer than it normally was at this moment, but it was simply a background noise in the whirl of her thoughts.

That did not stop her from sensing a familiar, lukewarm, strong presence floating into the room in which she now sat.

"Come on in, Clark," she called, beginning to pull herself gently from the trappings of her reflections.

"Oh, I didn't know I was interrupting anything," Clark replied sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I'll just go now."

Before he could even turn, Caitlin responded, "No, Clark. You don't have to go. You interrupted and you're going to stick around to explain why." She opened her eyes as the lingering aftertaste of her meditation state melted away. "Why are you here, Clark?"

He held up a small, folded piece of notebook paper. "Lesson two."

"And _that_ is…?" she said, playing dumb to test him.

"The note you passed me in history class telling me to meet you after school here in your apartment," he answered with a slightly irritated tone. "Caitlin, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing? Last time I checked, I was breathing and talking to you."

"Caitlin."

"That's my name."

"Caitlin, why are you doing this?"

"Lesson two, Clark."

"What's lesson two?"

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" she replied.

"Yes, that's why I'm here. Now what is lesson two?"

"It's a lesson."

"I gathered that," he mumbled. "Now, what is lesson two about?"

"You're learning it right now."

"Caitlin!" he snapped.

Caitlin sighed deeply, unfolding herself from the cross-legged position she'd held while she meditated. "Patience level is mild," she muttered. "That's what we need to work on first. After all, 'Patience creates confidence, decisiveness and a rational outlook, which eventually leads to success.' The first step in your success as a hero, Clark, will be learning and utilizing patience."

One of Clark's eyebrows disappeared under his dark bangs. "You brought me here to tell me that I need to learn patience?"

"Not 'learn patience', Clark. To further your patience. I believe that you need to work on that before I try and show you what I really wanted to today. This won't be quite as interesting of a lesson as our combat practice, but it will be as equally important."

Clark sighed. "Why?"

"Because, there will be people that you come across in your 'career' that will test your patience. They'll get on your nerves on a level so deep that I can't even describe it. Trust me: I know. And I want you to be able to get along with them correctly, so that the situation turns out right, and so you don't wind up doing something you regret."

"I can cross that bridge when I get to it."

"No, you can't. You can prepare for it now, because that bridge has no railings, and one misstep and you've fallen off the side and into the river. Precautions prevent that from happening."

Clark sighed again. "So, how do we go about 'furthering my patience'?"

"I actually have two ideas about how to proceed, and I'm going to give you the choice. The first one is this: I keep on verbally annoying the crap out of you." Clark groaned. "Or, two: I touch the areas of your mind that associate with annoyance, and impatience, until you build up endurance to them."

Caitlin could tell that neither of her suggestions seemed particularly appealing to him, but he was sick and tired of her verbal plagues…

"Give me the second one."

Caitlin smiled as she finally stood up, getting up off of her bed where she'd been sitting. "I had a feeling you would say that."

"You mean you knew I would say that."

"I guess." She moved closer to Clark, then gestured for him to seat himself in the one chair she kept in her room.

He complied, dropping into the rolling chair as he asked, "How are you going to go about doing this exactly?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "I just explained it a minute ago, almost exactly. I'm going to touch the areas of your mind that associate with irritation and annoyance continually, almost like poking them. You're not going to like it at all: it's going to be annoying to the point of pain. But eventually, like torture, you'll be able to stand the little things a lot easier."

Clark grimaced, but nodded.

Caitlin sat down on the floor in front of Clark, taking any bit of concentration whatsoever from remaining on her feet and focusing everything inward. Her eyes closed as she began to collect her power. As soon as her strength was all gathered, she murmured, "Get ready, Clark."

And then she released the swirling of her inner energy right at Clark. This energy was nothing like her telekinetic energy: it had no real effect on the physical. It did have a large effect on the mental though.

As soon as it was released, she could feel every single one of Clark's feelings almost as if they were her own. She knew each of his thoughts even as they were beginning.

He was apprehensive, nervous, and uncertain. His thoughts were an unruly mess.

And then as she invaded his mind, he snapped up defensively.

She knew that to other people's minds, her mental signature was sweet, but often melted away to a spicy sensation that went beyond words. Somehow, this combination made Clark suddenly feel as though he had to guard everything, to block her out of what she needed to do. He was subconsciously making her job harder than it needed to be.

_Clark, let go_, she thought into his mind.

His defense slackened somewhat, but remained taut.

_Clark, let go. Release your defense completely. You're not letting me in._

Clark's own thoughts came back to her. _But how?_

_Just let go, farmboy. Just let go._

And finally, he got it. He released every bit of apprehension and reflexive suspicion, dropping his defenses completely. She mentally moved into position, poised to annoy him beyond his wildest dreams.

X-X-X-X-X

Hours later, Clark slumped over in the chair in which he sat, exhausted. Somewhere along the line, he'd totally lost himself in what he could only describe as "pain", even though he knew it really wasn't. It was just extreme annoyance.

He felt the spicy-sweet feeling that he knew was Caitlin withdraw, leaving him feeling slightly deprived of something he'd become used to over this little session, but also glad because she had "tormented" him too.

"Clark, that took far longer than I expected," Caitlin said, breathing hard. "Your will did not want to be broken and reformed like I wanted it to."

His eyes slowly fluttered open to see Caitlin still sitting in front of him on the floor where she'd parked herself hours ago, sweat glittering across her forehead.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" Clark asked.

"No. I think your alien DNA may have somethin' to do with it."

"Maybe," Clark agreed. "I take it you don't think it's just because I'm strong-willed?"

"I'm almost positive it's not that. I've taken on people stronger-willed than you and broken them a lot faster. I honestly think it's somethin' in your DNA."

Clark nodded. He'd hoped it was because he was strong-willed, but quite obviously Caitlin had some reason to believe otherwise.

"So, what now?"

"Now comes what I really wanted to teach you." She paused as she stood. "Guess what it is, Clark."

"I have no idea, and no strength left to guess."

Caitlin smiled at that statement as she sat down on her bed and crossed her legs. "The importance of inner reflection and of constantly furthering yourself from the inside."

When Clark lifted an eyebrow at her, she continued, "We are special, you and I, Clark. We have had forced upon us a remarkable weight that most people could never even hope to handle. But we must, for the sakes of thousands. We have to mold ourselves into something entirely unique: real, selfless heroes with the strength of countless others. We cannot afford mistakes as normal people can, so we must shape ourselves to prevent our mistakes. This is what I want to show you: how I cope with shaping myself."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Oh, great," he moaned.

"Clark, this is important."

He sighed and nodded. "Go ahead and show me."

With a deep breath, Caitlin said, "Okay, Clark. I'm going to help you turn inward to the deepest part of yourself to find those things that you do subconsciously, and that may need changing. Eventually, I want you to be able to turn inward completely by yourself, but right now, I'm going to help you."

"Why is this so important again?" Clark asked.

"This is a wisdom-increasing exercise, and it will help you in months and years to come. Don't think for one minute that all of this that I am teaching you is for nothing. Clark, you will be a great superhero one day, probably exceeding my own talents. I want to help make sure you make it to that day, and that you get there with flying colors."

Clark nodded. "Alright, I get it."

But the truth was, he really didn't. He couldn't see himself becoming a superhero for some reason… It was just too wild. There was no such thing as a superhero—they were just stories. At least that's what he'd thought before Caitlin. But now, he knew there was such a thing, and that he would have to become one.

"Just go ahead and start helping me turn inward," Clark said, shifting in the chair. "Let's go ahead and get this over with."


	9. Teacher

**_Hah! Chapter 9 is now here! Sorry if that took a while... inspiration died for a couple of hours right in the middle... And I've been working on a couple other stories too... Anyway, I'll stop babbling and let you get on to reading. MAKE SURE YOU REVIEW. I DO NOT LIKE THOSE WHO READ BUT FAIL TO REVIEW!_

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**Clark teaches Caitlin**

"Clark, stop that!" she snapped, pushing his hand away from the broken planet. "You're just gonna make it worse!"

"Jeez, don't have a cow, Caitlin!" Clark snapped back, withdrawing his hand quickly.

"I can't help it if you're getting on my nerves!" Caitlin gently lifted the broken model of Saturn for their science project model of the solar system with her mind, putting it back where it belonged—in its solar orbit between Jupiter and Uranus—and using her hands to gently reattach it. "Gosh, Clark, you're annoyin'."

"Look who's talking!" he quipped.

"You're even startin' to sound like me."

He put a disgusted look on his face. "Dadgum, now who'd wanna do that?" he mimicked.

She jabbed him in the side with a telekinetic push. "More and more like me every day."

"You sound like a proud mother."

"No, just a teacher," she said with a smile. She jokingly pinched his cheek. "Oh, my little Clarkie has learned so much in this past month and a half." She sniffled. "Oh, I am so darn proud!"

A little roughly, Clark pushed her hand away from his cheek. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy her touch, but just that he didn't like the way she was doing it. "So you're glad that you turned innocent, farmboy me into a sarcastic irritator like you?"

"And you still keep right on with them sarcastic comments. Every sentence, I see more and more of my influence."

Clark groaned as he realized that it was true—all too true—and covered his face with a hand.

"Annoying my son to death again, Caitlin?" Martha Kent asked as she strode past where the two sat at the dining room table.

"Of course I am, Miss Martha," Caitlin said with a smile that Clark glimpsed through his fingers. "Don't I always?"

"That you do," Mrs. Kent agreed with a chuckle. "Though how you manage it all of the time, I'll never understand."

Caitlin shrugged and said, "Well, practice makes perfect," as Clark dropped his hand from his face. "And I've been gettin' in a lot of practice annoyin' him."

_I'd have to agree_, Clark thought. _You've been getting in more than your fair share of annoying me._ He reached out towards their model—specially adapted with magnets to help the planets stay in correct order—to try and attach Pluto and abruptly broke off Mars.

"Clark!" Caitlin exclaimed. "What the heck did you think you were doin'?" Before he could even scramble out a reply, she snapped, "Not only have you killed the great people of Saturn, you've murdered the Martian population too!"

"Very funny," Clark growled as he reached out again to try and pick up Mars.

Caitlin snapped both hands out to push him away this time, taking Pluto in the process. "Do not ever touch this model again, Clark Kent. You're breakin' everythin'. I repeat:_ Do not touch_!"

"Hey, this counts as my grade too!"

"So what? It counts as mine too, and I'm not droppin' a four-point-oh GPA just to let you say you touched and broke the model a thousand times!"

"Hey, who said I was going to break it again?"

"A wise old lady called '_past experience_'!"

"Jeez, you're tense."

Caitlin was already reattaching the planets at a lightning pace as she snapped her angry remarks back at Clark, lifting most of the planets with her mind. "And you're not being careful or serious enough to handle this project!"

Abruptly as she spoke, both teens realized Mrs. Kent was still standing in the kitchen, watching them. "You two fight like a couple of dogs over a scrap of meat."

They both glanced sidelong at Clark's mother. "What?" they asked in unison.

"You argue and fight like animals," Mrs. Kent rephrased. "Both of you need to relax."

Caitlin's face was marked momentarily by a nasty scowl, but faded before Mrs. Kent could catch a glimpse. "Sorry, Miss Martha, but that'd be mighty difficult with Clark screwin' up as often as he does these days."

"Hey!" Clark objected.

Mrs. Kent just shook her head and murmured, "Kids these days never listen." And she left the two teens to their bickering as they once again launched into an argument

X-X-X-X-X

"Caitlin, you _are_ too tense."

After a near half-hour after this most recent argument started, he'd worn her down to the point where she didn't even care to reply negatively. Instead, she just slumped a little further down in her chair, staring at the project that in her mind had started all of this.

"_Caitlin_!"

She glanced up. "Last time I checked, that was my name."

"You're still tense," he observed. "You're trying to act all tired and stuff, but you're not. I know you… you never grow tired of annoying the heck out of me."

She didn't even attempt to deny it. Instead, she just mumbled, "All this arguing got us nowhere. Dangit, this thing's due tomorrow."

"Tense, tense, tense…" Clark murmured, to Caitlin's slight irritation.

Suddenly, he reached out, grabbed her hand and dragged her up and out of her chair. Wordlessly, he began leading her outside.

Caitlin resisted, though not hard. "What are you doing? You know just as well as I do that we have a project to finish! We can't just leave it, for whatever the heck you're trying to do."

"Yes, we can."

Caitlin growled angrily at Clark, ready to argue vehemently once again, but he silenced her. "Caitlin, please, don't argue. We're out, away from the pressure of the science project. What in this world makes you feel most relaxed? Don't lie to me either, I may not be telepathic, but I'll be able to tell."

_Yeah, right,_ Caitlin thought. _Too-innocent-for-your-own-good you? Pfft. Let's just see… _But she caught herself before a lie escaped through her lips. _You've tortured him enough. The truth is worth telling here. _"Flying," she said, rolling her eyes.

Caitlin sensed sudden apprehension from Clark as she said this, sending her onto full alert. "Uh, pick something else."

"Why?" she inquired, arching a brow. "Flying is what makes me feel most at ease, and that's what you asked for. You asked what makes me feel easy, and I told you: flying." As Clark opened his mouth, realization hit Caitlin. "You don't want to fly!" she exclaimed. "But why, Clark? Can't? No, wait, you were going to fly when we did that combat practice… I know you thought about it… Why don't you want to fly, Clark?"

He shifted uneasily in her stern gaze. "Uh…"

"Out with it, Clark!" she snapped.

"I'm afraid of flying, okay!" he gushed. "There, does that satisfy you?"

"No," Caitlin drawled. "Why are you afraid of flying, Clark?"

Clark's eyes darted about strangely. "I'd rather not say… Besides, I'm not good at flying. As a general rule, I fall down after a few seconds."

"Don't worry, farmboy, I won't drop you."

"Yeah, sure."

"You don't believe me? Oh, my gosh, Clark, you were exposed to raw bouts of my power in combat, and you're still doubting my strength? How stupid and unrealistic is that?"

As Clark started to reply, Caitlin stopped him. "Oh, I know. 'Fears are rarely ever rational, in fact more often than not, they are the product of irrational assumptions of the risk involved.' I understand, though really, I'm going to break you of that fear, Clark."

"That quote, where's it from?"

"From me," she admitted somewhat unwillingly. Hastily, Caitlin changed the subject. "But like I said, Clark, rational or not, you won't be afraid of flying anymore if I have it my way. And let me tell you, I can be rather persuasive, with and without my telepathic abilities." Without any warning whatsoever, she lifted him experimentally a few feet off of the ground with her telekinesis. He tightened up immediately.

At this, she laughed lightly. "You're even worse than I thought. Three feet off of the ground and you tense up like a four-year-old in a doctor's office!"

Just to spite Caitlin, Clark forced himself to ease up a little bit. "I'm not that bad."

She loosened her telekinetic grip for a half-second, and Clark dropped…

And shrieked even as Caitlin stopped his descent.

"Yeah, you are." Caitlin smirked. "The first step on the road to recovery is admitting you have a problem, Clark."

"Okay," Clark cried, exasperated. "I have a problem!"

"See, that was easy!" Caitlin said. She reached out and took both of Clark's hands. "And the second step is staring your fear right in the face." Without waiting to hear his whining protest, she launched both of them straight up into the air.

They were eighty feet up before Clark even realized what was going on.

And when he did, he tightened up worse than before, clutching Caitlin's hands tightly.

"Clark, do you mind not breaking _all_ of the bones in my hands?"

He released them somewhat.

"You nutcase, look around. We're at least two hundred feet up now, nothing's wrong, we're perfectly fine, and you're still tight."

"It's not my fault," Clark said, trying not to look down.

"That is the biggest lie I've ever had the displeasure to hear. Clark, you darn well know it is too your fault. No one here is making you tense up; no one's making you be afraid. It's your own personal fault, Clark, and you can't pin this one on anybody. Not even me."

She knew she was right, and she knew that he knew.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I guess you're going to tell me this is one of those things I need to work on from the inside?"

"Darn right," Caitlin answered him as his eyes opened. "If you would have done that before, you wouldn't have had to have that there argument with me over fear."

"No, then it would have been over something else."

For a moment, both of them were silent. Caitlin broke it.

"Do you realize that this was supposed to be about me relaxin', yet somehow it turned into me sorta teachin' you 'nother lesson 'bout somethin' you should already know? It turned into me telling you to relax." She cocked her head. "Now wasn't it supposed to be you tellin' me to relax?"

"Sorry," Clark said quietly. "I've acted foolishly, and I'm sorry."

"Gosh, Clark, I didn't need an apology. I was just stating a fact."

Clark scowled. "Well sorry for apologizing."

Caitlin chuckled. "You are too funny sometimes, and you don't even realize it. Too funny. All too funny."

X-X-X-X-X

"They move onward, totally oblivious to our presence, totally oblivious to the power that is above them, watching," Caitlin murmured, staring down at the land stretched out far below. Clark glanced over at her from where they sat, raising a brow. They were sitting "on a cloud" or right in it, held up by Caitlin's telekinetic powers, feet dangling and minds roaming. "Sometimes I think that that's how it is for God: the world below Him, mostly moving obliviously onward, not wishing to admonish His presence, not willing to admit that they are not supreme. The world sits below Him and won't even confess He's there." She sighed. "And I wonder just how much that pains Him."

She glanced at Clark to see him glaring at her, trying to mask his discomfort by looking interested.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I should not openly declare things pertaining to a religion we do not share. I know that it makes people uncomfortable, even you. Sorry."

Clark shifted and shook his head. "No. Don't hide your religion for my comfort. I know how personal it is for you, and I don't want you to hide or neglect it for me."

Caitlin smiled sincerely. "Thanks, Clark. You have no idea how much that helps."

He returned the smile. "You're welcome." After a moment's silence, Clark said, "See? You were tense, and now you've loosened up. But somehow, even loosened up, you're spouting wisdom that would make the Pope blush."

"Somehow, forcing things out into words puts me at ease," Caitlin said, choosing to ignore the part about the Pope. She sighed and glanced out across the clouds. "But you're right, I was too tense. Clark, a lot of times I feel like the world is crashing down on my shoulders, and there's really nothing I can do to stop it. I can hold it up, I can shape myself to handle it better, but it still falls. I struggle, and the longer I wait, the heavier it feels. I tighten up because I don't want to let the world fall. Being loose would mean disaster that I can never allow."

Clark was shocked by her outpouring. "Aren't you the one that constantly insists at teachers that you're not pushing yourself too hard? That you're okay, and that you can handle everything?"

She sighed heavily. "As far as school goes, I can't imagine pushing myself too hard. It's simply that far away, and that grand. I do not push myself too hard in school, nor do I in life. It is purely a side-effect of being telepathic, and special."

"If you say so."

"Clark, you have to believe me. I _am_ telepathic, closely in touch with what goes on in my own mind, and the emotional world around me."

Clark nodded. "You just have to learn to let go once in a while."

"Couldn't hurt," Caitlin agreed, her eyes still roaming the vast, flat fields below and sky above. "Good advice, Clark. It hit the nail on the head."

"And the student teaches his teacher," Clark commented. He grinned. "Getting slow?"

"Not at all. Don't forget that 'the best teacher is also a student'."

"Where'd you get that quote? Did it just come to you at this exact moment so that you could have an excuse?"

"Nope, not at all." Caitlin grinned. "That one I got from a fortune cookie."

Clark chuckled. "A fortune cookie? You've sunk down to reading and quoting fortune cookies?"

"Just because it is an unorthodox method of obtaining wisdom doesn't mean it's any less important, true or relevant. Wisdom can be found in the most unlikely places."

"Did you get that one from a fortune cookie too?"

"Nope. That one's mine."

Clark sighed, and the pair lapsed into silence again.

And again, long moments later, it was Caitlin that broke it. "The world is totally nuts, you know. Looking at it from up here, you can see that it's all one, single world. But for some reason, they insist on fighting, on arguing to claim things that they have no right to claim. They war with each other to call specific places their own, and really, when you look at it—especially how we are now—you can see that it is one world, owned by everyone. The world will only have peace when they decide they want it bad enough to admit to calling the entire thing everybody's property."

Clark raised an eyebrow at Caitlin, and it took him a moment to find his voice. "The clouds must make you crazier than normal, and rather wistful and philosophical. You just went from quoting fortune cookies to contemplating and lecturing on world peace. And you went from discussing how the weight of the world presses on you to how the world will find itself satisfied."

She smiled in return. "I'm a multi-faceted, complex individual."

"I think you're two different people, slapped together to become one. One half is that sarcastic, aggravating, but fairly normal fifteen-year-old, but the other half is the wise, philosophical, superhero, weight-of-the-world teacher that is training me to become what she has already mastered."

"Call me split, but you know it ain't the truth."

"I know. You're not two, but just one, utterly remarkable mix."

Once more, she turned a smile towards him.

_And the most amazing one I've ever met too_, he added mentally. _I just wish you'd let me in closer, so that I could show you just how special you are, and how much more alike we are than you think. _

Unfortunately, he didn't know that during her contemplations of world peace, Caitlin had dropped the mental static with which she surrounded herself, thus hearing Clark's thoughts completely. She didn't display it on her face, but inside, she winced seriously. She thought that over the past three weeks, his "feelings" had managed to die almost completely, so that he would not even think of her in that way. Obviously, she was wrong.

* * *

_**YOU! Stop where you are and GO review!**_


	10. Disappearance

**_WHOO-HOO! It's finally here! Sorry that this took so very, very long guys, but I had to pause in the middle to write a couple of Gilmore Girls songfics... You should read them! Also, I apologize to all of you impatient fans out there... but I am going to take a couple of days off of this story to work on my Star Wars one, because I have some very irritated fans on that side._**

**_Ah-hem..._**

**_Thanks to all of you reviewers, specifically Liz213Mast and elbowface._**

**_Liz: Yes, Caitlin is based upon myself. But you must realize that some aspects have been exaggerated for the sake of interesting fiction. For example, I am at the top of my class, but I have yet to skip a grade. I am hoping to do so in the next year, though. And though I would like to call myself wise, I know it would be foolish and that I still have a long way to go._**

**_Elbowface: Yes, I decided a while ago that my sarcasm would be exaggerated in Caitlin so that she could prepare him for Lois Lane. And just so you know, this chapter does introduce a meteor-freak. I had the idea long ago. And Caitlin will find her way into the Clark shrine soon enough. :)_**

**_Olivia: Of course you like the one with you in it. And don't worry, I was only joking about hooking you up with Lex. :)_**

**_On to the chapter._

* * *

_Oh, yeah... This one's dedicated to you, Jess. Thank you so very, very much for all of your constant feedback and help. Seemed only fair that you'd make your appearance somewhere, and somewhere soon._**

* * *

**Disappearance**

ME: What are you doin now, Jess?

JB: getting ready to come see you… waiting for mom to finish washing my Halloween costume, so we can squeeze it into my over-packed suitcase and hop on an airplane to fly all the way out to KANSAS to see you.

ME: lol.

JB: (sigh) why couldn't you have moved to Hawaii?

ME: hey, blame my dad for that one. That's his fault.

ME: Don't worry, Kansas isn't so bad.

JB: so u ppl say.

ME: really, it isn't.

JB: w/e u say

ME:) You're weird, ya know that?

JB: yeah, i know. thanx.

JB: well, sounds like the washer's done. I g2g… see ya in a few hours, Cait.

ME: ok, see ya Jess.

X-X-X-X-X

It was late Friday afternoon, October thirty-first, and Caitlin was still putting together her Halloween costume. Tonight was Smallville High's Halloween dance, and though she'd never really participated in anything having to do with Halloween, this was her first chance at a public high school dance, and she was determined to take it.

Not to mention the fact that Jessica Brand—one of Caitlin's best friends, beside Kelsey and Olivia—was at the moment flying up from Jacksonville to Metropolis to visit Caitlin for the weekend, and to attend the dance.

Caitlin glanced at her Star Wars-themed wall clock. No, scratch that. Jessica was on her way to Smallville from the Metropolis airport by now, via Smallville Shuttle Service.

_Shoot, she'll be here before I can finish my costume…_ Caitlin thought, already scrambling to speed the process along. _Not that it matters._

They'd already planned to dress in costumes that brought out the other's, pairing off, so to speak. They figured it would make them unique, separate and possibly exclusive.

Caitlin hadn't even confessed their plans to Clark.

In fact, she'd only told him that she had a friend coming up from Florida to visit and go to the dance, and that her costume was a secret.

Being a rather secretive person himself and out of courtesy, he hadn't pursued asking her more than a couple of questions, but she knew he had them. He wanted to know what she was up to.

Smiling to herself, Caitlin spread out her costume dress. Yes, not for the first time, Clark was left wondering what in the world Caitlin was up to.

X-X-X-X-X

Where the heck was she? Clark checked his watch again, shifting uncomfortably in the costume Caitlin had suggested he wear. People were staring.

As well they should be. He was dressed as none other than a superhero, the very thing that Caitlin was hoping to shape him into. She had reasoned against his reason and common sense that dressing as a superhero would get him used to wearing such a costume, and that no one would care. The bright blue, spandex costume was attracting the attention of everyone, as was the long red cape over Clark's shoulders. He was shocked and angry at himself for even agreeing to wear the thing in the first place.

Blushing lightly as people pointed fingers and giggled, Clark made his way to the punch bowl.

Suddenly, all around him were gasps and laughs that he knew weren't directed at him. Even as he turned to look, his mind guessed what was happening. A glance at the doors confirmed it.

Walking into the dance were two girls, one he knew and the other he guessed about… dressed as two 1950s TV characters…

Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz.

The infamous, always-in-trouble Lucy/Ethel duo.

With a startled look still plastered to his face, Clark strode towards the pair. "These were the secret costumes you wouldn't tell me about?" Clark asked the taller "red-head".

"Indeed they are," Caitlin replied, smoothing the obvious curly red wig riding on her blonde head. "I figured you wouldn't be likely to dress as I suggested if you knew that I was going to be a famous TV character."

"At least you're a humorous one." Clark turned to "Ethel" and asked, "I guess you're Jessica?"

"You guess right." She shook his outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, Clark. And just to let you know, I'm not naturally blonde." She indicated her blonde curls.

"And just to let you know, I don't normally wear _spandex_." He glared at Caitlin as he spoke the last word, but she only looked amused. "That was all _Lucy_'s doing."

"Yeah. She seems to have that effect on people very often."

"What effect?"

"Making people do things they normally wouldn't."

"Oh," Clark said as he understood. "I would have to agree with you then. She does seem to make people do things they usually wouldn't, me in particular."

Even as the words left his mouth, Clark saw a frown stretch Caitlin's artificially bright-red lips.

X-X-X-X-X

"Hey, have you seen Jessica?" Caitlin asked an hour and a half later, as the dance was beginning to lull and people leave. "She went off to get some punch for both of us half an hour ago, and never came back."

"No, actually, I haven't," Clark answered, looking around. "I was talking with Lana and Chloe most of the time."

"Dadgumit, I'd say she's missing, wouldn't you?"

"I would say that's a pretty safe bet. Should we start asking people if they've seen her?"

Caitlin waved a hand in dismissal acknowledgement. "You go ahead and do that."

As he turned and began asking people if they'd "seen a girl dressed like Ethel from 'I Love Lucy' recently", Caitlin expanded her thoughts outward across the crowded gymnasium, seeking a familiar mental signature. Mind after mind she scanned, feeling the intrusion of others' thoughts nag at her constantly, but she continued to move onward, physically drifting in certain directions as she scanned that way.

Mind after mind she became more and more anxious.

She couldn't locate Jessica at all in the crowd.

"Oh, crap," she muttered under her breath.

This was not good.

"Clark!" she called.

He was at her side instantly. "What is it?"

"She's not here. Not in the entire building."

"You…" Clark's voice dropped to a whisper. "…scanned? The whole building? Everywhere?"

"Yes to all three questions. She's not here, and she can't go far on her own. I brought her, she wouldn't leave without me. I mean it. Something's not right here. Not right at all."

"How do you know?"

Caitlin gave him a light smile. "Intuition. Premonitions. Past experience. Clark, everything I know, and everything I am, screams that something is wrong, and my gut is nigh always dead-on. It's a gift and a curse, but it's right."

Clark nodded understanding. "Alright, let's get out of here."

Hurriedly, and inconspicuously, they slipped out into the humid night air. As soon as they were far enough away from the school, Caitlin motioned for Clark to stop. He complied as she pulled off her fifties-style pumps. After her shoes, she started to undo the latches on the back of her dress…

"What are you doing!" Clark exclaimed, turning away quickly.

She scoffed as she whirled to face him. "Don't worry, farmboy, I'm wearing my jumpsuit underneath! As if I'd really do what you're thinking."

By the time Clark had turned back around, she had the dress off and had pulled the black jumpsuit's rolled sleeves and pants' legs out and down, covering her completely, neck to wrists and ankles. But now, she was barefoot.

"Uh, Caitlin?" Clark began as she pulled her wig off and pulled a hood on.

"Yeah?" she replied, shoving her dress, shoes and wig into the thigh-to-shin pocket on her left leg.

"What are you doing?"

"Becoming Psyche-Out."

"What for?"

"So we can go find Jessica. Come on," she said, extending a hand even as she lifted into the air. "We'll be able to go farther faster if we fly. At my fastest safe pace, I can scan a square mile within a minute."

Clark hurriedly grabbed her hand as she began to lift him up too.

"My mental radar can go about three hundred feet in all directions if I really concentrate, which I plan on doing." They took off swiftly. "You use your X-ray vision to scan the immediate area, or as far as you can see."

Clark nodded. "Ok. Uh, but Caitlin?"

"Yeah?"

"You're barefoot."

"I know, Clark."

"But won't that be a problem?"

"No, why would it be?"

"Uh, I don't know… couldn't you step on something and hurt your foot?"

"I suppose I could. But I won't. I'll be more cautious, if that'll make you happy."

"Sure… Do you go barefoot a lot?"

"Yep."

"Why—?" His question faded in her mind as she picked up something on her mental radar. Something seriously disturbing and attention-catching.

Someone a good two hundred feet ahead, thinking utterly hostile thoughts and feeling nervous and secretive. The hostility practically poured off of whomever the heck this was, making a huge ripple in her consciousness. And the mental signature was utterly unique, even more so than a normal person's would've been… somehow it felt _different_ to her… Isolating the feeling, she pinpointed the person's exact location: ahead, twenty degrees to the right.

She concentrated all of her attention in that direction, searching for what she thought must be there…

And it was.

Jessica Brand's mental signature.

But somehow, it felt different than it normally would… _Unconscious,_ Caitlin identified. _She's unconscious! Dang you, whoever you are, you're gonna pay._

Without giving Clark any warning whatsoever, she focused her energy behind her in a huge wave of telekinetic jet propulsion, driving them forward at a speed somewhere near a hundred miles an hour. They'd catch this kidnapper yet.

"Wha—WHOA!" Clark exclaimed as they took off. As he reoriented himself, he glanced over at Caitlin's determinedly set face. "Give a guy some warning next time."

"She's up ahead, Clark. Unconscious, in someone else's possession."

"What?"

"I think she's been kidnapped."

"Oh," Clark said, realization smacking him in the face. "_Oh_! How far?"

"Not very. They're about…" She stopped and tested with her awareness. "…right here." She stopped suddenly, dropping quickly to the ground, standing.

Instantly, when her feet touched the ground, she fell into a combat stance, angled at what seemed to Clark like an empty space. Caitlin knew it was anything but empty.

Instead of touching down gracefully like Caitlin had, Clark hit the ground hard, tumbling to his knees, then down to his hands and knees. And he couldn't see what ever it was that Caitlin was looking at with narrowed eyes. After the "Oomph!" he made hitting the ground he found his breath and asked, "What are you looking at?"

"X-ray vision."

She could tell by the way that his brow furrowed that he did exactly as she suggested, and as his brow loosened and his eyes widened in shock, she knew he saw it.

Standing there, ten feet in front of them, was what Caitlin knew must be one of Smallville's infamous meteor-freaks, hiding from view using whatever strange power the Kryptonite must've given him. He was just standing there, frozen, probably hoping against rationality that Caitlin and Clark couldn't see him.

With the unconscious Jessica slung across one shoulder.

"You can show yourself," Caitlin growled at him. "We both know where you are."

Instantly, the meteor-freak rippled into view.

He was short, skinny and gangly looking, dressed in normal clothes, no costume. His face seemed somewhat familiar, with tight cheeks, a long forehead and bowl-cut blonde hair… Caitlin sifted through her memory of Smallville High's students, all of those she'd ever had the chance to come into contact with…

"Joshua Schwartz," she identified quickly.

Joshua made no move to confirm or deny her identification.

So she continued onward. "What do you want with Jessica?"

"Revenge," he muttered in her direction. "That Caitlin O'Conner seems rather attached to this one."

Behind her mask, Caitlin winced. Of course Joshua couldn't see her face. He didn't know that the one he was seeking revenge on was right in front of him. "Why do you want revenge on Caitlin O'Conner?"

Joshua snickered, backing away slowly even as he spoke. "I was the smartest kid in school before she came around. Top of all of the classes, no rival. And then she came along, all 'I'm better than all of you, even the teachers'! And suddenly, I wasn't on the top anymore. I was either tied, or second best. I'm not settling for second-best anymore. She's going to pay so bad that her grades are going to suffer, drop and put me on top again."

_Great. Jessica's in trouble 'cause some messed-up meteor freak has a skewed and totally off picture of me_, Caitlin thought. _And he's just jealous._

She began stalking towards him. "Not if I can help it," she growled.

Before Joshua even had a chance to move, she flung both hands out, palms outward. Jessica lifted away from his shoulder and set down gently on the ground ten feet away as Caitlin's hand tracked her movement. Her other hand stayed glued in Joshua's direction as she sent out a telekinetic wave straight towards him, flinging him backwards roughly.

Halfway through his flight, Joshua disappeared.

_Crap_, Caitlin thought, sending out a mental pulse. _I can do this, but you just want to make it difficult._

_There you are…_

He had hit the ground on the other side of the dirt road, landing on his back. Somehow, he'd managed not to get hurt seriously—Caitlin guessed that his exposure to the meteor rocks must've given him super-endurance and strength too—and was running towards Jessica's unconscious figure.

He never made it there.

Caitlin's hand flew out again towards his invisible body, flinging him backwards again. Somehow, he twisted and struggled against it, and managed to lessen the distance which he flew… But that didn't stop him from plowing into the field across the road from Caitlin, right through row after row of wheat.

She found a smile working its way to her lips even as a bead of sweat found its way across the side of her face.

And even as Joshua got up, still invisible, Caitlin realized that she wouldn't be able to go on like this for much longer. She was reaching the end of her rope, as far as telepathic strength went. Her endurance had never been strong, and after throwing harsh waves at Joshua and propelling herself and Clark down here, she was beginning to wear down.

"Get him," she muttered to the thus-far immobile Clark. "I have to gather my strength."

Clark did as he was told, stalking towards Joshua as he began to rise, now visible again.

Fiery bolts leapt from Clark's eyes straight towards Joshua even as the meteor-freak disappeared again and jumped off to one side. The fire missed him by mere inches, flying past him to set stalks of wheat ablaze.

Knowing that his heat-vision had failed, Clark super-sped over to where Joshua was scrambling to get away, fist raised.

Caitlin didn't stick around to watch anymore. She ran towards the unconscious Jessica's side, not bothering to make sure that she was far enough out of Joshua and Clark's way…

Instantly as Joshua's fist came at her in a super-powered punch, Caitlin realized her mistake. And she had time to contemplate it as she flew thirty feet in the opposite direction, slamming into the ground after plowing through rows of wheat. As she swiped dirt out of her eyes and face, she became aware of the pain in her left wrist—which had been pinned beneath her in the tumble.

_Sprained_, she thought, examining it as well as she could in the dark. _Crap, how am I gonna explain this to Mama?_

Gathering what strength she had left, she flung out her uninjured hand towards Joshua, lifting him into the air as far as she could manage, then dropping him flat to the ground. He hit with some miniscule bit of a "boom", obviously not striking it hard enough to do any damage.

As exhaustion reared its ugly head, Caitlin glanced over at Clark, who was mysteriously weakened, stumbling about, away from glowing green rocks scattered around the edge of the wheat field…

Joshua rose up and punched Clark right in the stomach, hurling him backwards.

She felt now that the tumble had left Clark unconscious, and that Joshua was heading in Jessica's direction…

She was powerless to stop him. She couldn't even move.

As Joshua disappeared with Jessica over one shoulder, blackness overtook Caitlin.

X-X-X-X-X

Slowly, consciousness found Jessica Brand, and she stirred lightly where she sat…

Her eyes fluttered open… to see only darkness. She shook her head, and went to bring a hand to her aching head, only to find that she was tied down to a chair…

_How…?_ she thought. And then it all came back to her: the freak that had grabbed her at the dance, dragged her away despite her protests, drugged her when she began protesting with her fists…

_Crap. I've gotta get outta here…_

She started to wiggle in place, like she'd always been told to do—by Caitlin in particular—causing her chair to start rocking back and forth… She felt her ropes begin to loosen even as the chair toppled over on its side with a _bang_! Wincing at the noise and hoping desperately that that her captor wasn't around to hear, she began using the floor for friction against her restraints…

Moments later, she had them totally off and her chafed wrists and ankles were the only indicators that they had ever been there.

Jessica began to shuffle around what she had found thus far to be a wide, bare room with sealed concrete floors that were cold to her hands and knees…

Her outstretched left hand struck something and feeling around the edges, she determined it was a door. Her wandering right hand struck the doorknob and she gave it an experimental twist.

Just as she suspected, it was locked.

With a determined snort, she stood and prayed that breaking down doors was as easy as the movies made it seem… She balanced herself as well as she could, taking what she hoped was a sturdy stance and reared back her right leg…

Her high-heeled shoe struck the door first, meeting only slight resistance as it proceeded to snap through the door, splintering it right down the middle. It didn't break all of the way, but about three-quarters of the way, and she withdrew her foot. Her hands made short work of the last bit of door, and within two minutes, she was through.

She'd only walked a couple of joyful steps out the other side when a male voice stopped her cold. "And just where do you think you're going?"

Jessica froze. Gulping, she turned around… to see the guy that had taken her in the first place… She gathered her courage and squared her shoulders. "What the heck do you think you're doing, kidnapping me?"

"Getting revenge on O'Conner."

"And you'd wanna do that because….?"

"Because she robbed me of something that is and always has been rightfully mine," he answered with a snarl. "And you seem to be the easiest way to do that."

Jessica had been slowly backing up this entire time, closer and closer to the door that she desperately hoped led outside… And now, she yanked off one of her shoes and threw it directly at her captor, causing him to duck aside and shout.

As soon as his attention was on the shoe hurling towards his head, she turned and ran straight for the door…

Just as she flung it wide open and started to step out, an invisible hand wrapped around her face, smothering her with a drugged cloth…

Before darkness claimed her once more, she had a chance to call out a single word. "_CAITLIN_!"

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin awoke to a scream—she couldn't tell whether it was vocal or mental, but she knew who it came from. "_CAITLIN_!" Jessica screamed.

She bolted upright from where she was lying—still in the wheat field—and almost smacked right into Clark. Frantically, she glanced about for some sight of Jessica… And then she sent out her awareness as far as she could… Still no Jessica.

"Did you hear that?" Caitlin panted, already climbing to her feet.

"Caitlin, calm down!" Clark said, helping her up. "What did you hear?"

Caitlin telepathically calmed herself down, touching the areas of her mind that were fretting up a storm, and making them subside to a faint undertone. She also forced her breathing back to normal, with effort. "I heard… I heard Jessica. She called my name… And if you didn't hear it, I'd say she mentally shouted it. It's a trick I taught all of my friends in case they were ever in trouble and needed me."

"So you're sure she's in trouble?"

"About ninety percent certain."

"Then let's get going."

"And we're gonna find her how?"

Clark was already dragging Caitlin towards the open stretch of dirt road, laboring to will himself to fly… Caitlin relieved him by levitating them both up, her question still unanswered.

"Clark?"

Finally, he answered. "I know the most likely place where Joshua would be."

She started to inquire as to how, but something she read from his mental state warned her not to, and she obeyed. Some things were better left unsaid… Or as she so often liked to put it, some fish were better if left in the pond to grow…

X-X-X-X-X

Jessica again awoke to find herself tied to a chair in a dark room… only this time she knew that there were about double the amount of ropes holding her to the chair, and it was a heavy chair that probably wouldn't topple without a crash… And there was a gag in her mouth…

Still determined that this mindless reject couldn't keep her in captivity for long, she began rocking back and forth in the chair, and with serious effort, she toppled it. Just as she had expected, it made a fairly loud crash and she sat in stillness for a few minutes, her heart pounding in her ears as she waited for her captor to barge in and catch her…

She waited for almost five minutes—which seemed to her like an hour—but mysteriously, he never appeared.

So she began the arduous task of removing her restraints and getting the heck out of this prison…

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin knew she was bordering on dangerous impatience as she waited for Clark to give her the "okay" signal that would tell her she could bust through the tiny cabin's door to come to Jessica's aid…

_Allowing impatience is unacceptable_, she told herself, running through calming exercises she'd adapted. _Patience is a virtue… Let Patience have her perfect work… Lady Patience must hold your heart and mind at all times… Impatience breeds intolerance, which breeds rash activity, which breeds chaos…Chaos is all that can come from impatience, Caitlin. Rein it in…_

Finally, Caitlin heard Clark's mental assurance. _Go!_

She wasted absolutely no time in charging forwards, out of her hiding place and at the door of the secluded cabin, flinging it wide with telekinesis before she even got to it. She flew through, fists reared and ready, eyes alert for any sign of Joshua.

She caught the briefest glimpse of him in the room's far corner before he disappeared, but it was all she needed.

Both hands flew out at him, sending out a wave that slammed him repeatedly against the wall, and causing him to grunt each time he struck it. She managed to slam him to the wall ten times before she had to let go and gather her strength, but by then Clark was in position, and he reached out and punched the flickering Joshua against the opposite wall.

Joshua went through the cabin's wall, landing in an adjoining room, and before he could even stand, Clark was there again, punching him repeatedly…

In seconds, Joshua was no longer flickering in and out, but remaining visible. He was beaten, and he knew it.

As Clark released his attack and drew away from the staggering Joshua, Caitlin moved in and smashed him through the hole in the wall and back into the room in which they'd first started. Caitlin strode through the doorway into the room, even as Joshua struggled to his feet…

He held up a hand at her. "Please, stop…"

Her hand slowly lowered. She sent out an experimental pulse in his direction… And realized that he was lying through his teeth. He had no intention of surrendering.

But Caitlin also realized that if she kept him talking for just a few more minutes…

"I have stopped," she said, deepening her voice. "Your mercy begging had better begin now."

"Oh, please, please, please, spare me! I meant no one any harm! I simply wished to worry Caitlin O'Conner! I would never have harmed her, sir!" Joshua lied.

Inwardly, Caitlin smiled at being called "sir". Aloud, she glowered. "You take me for a fool, Joshua Schwartz," she said, allowing her voice to become normal. "You think I do not know what you are doing? Fool."

A look of surprise and confusion froze on Joshua's face as he was knocked over the back of the head, hard.

Caitlin smiled as he hit the floor, unconscious. "Nice work, Jess," she muttered, striding over to Joshua's motionless form, and the young woman behind it, holding a wooden chair leg. "I was beginning to wonder just when that stubborn sense of self-preservation was gonna kick in."

Running a hand over her rumpled brown hair, Jessica gave a heart-felt sigh. "Oh, it kicked in pretty early in the game. This was my second escape attempt."

Caitlin pulled the mask from her face and gave Jessica a smile even as she knelt down by Joshua. "Dang, you're good. Twice in three hours."

A worn out Clark strode through the door towards the pair of girls, shaking his head. "Heck, yeah. I don't know too many people that brave."

"I do, fortunately," Caitlin spoke up, reaching out a hand to touch Joshua's temple.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked with a frown as Caitlin's brow furrowed in concentration.

After a few seconds, she relaxed and faced him. "He will remember nothing of us. Simply that he kidnapped, why and that his detainee was able to escape. We are safe, as are our secrets."

Clark's brows rose. "Dang, you've got some pretty useful abilities."

"Most of 'em come in handy frequently," Caitlin agreed, standing. She gave Jessica a sidelong glance. "Now, Jess, here's what I need you to do…"

X-X-X-X-X

An hour later, it was all over.

Jessica had done as Caitlin had instructed and called the police, telling them she'd been kidnapped, but she had managed to knock her captor out. Clark and Caitlin waited in the trees surrounding the cabin—which lay outside the city limits by a half-mile—waiting until the police did show up, just in case Joshua came to before the authorities reached him.

Luckily, he didn't and the police took him into custody under abduction charges even as he began to awaken.

Caitlin's mother was contacted, and within moments, she was at the scene, to assure Jessica that everything was alright, and applauding her courage.

Jessica also pretended to contact Caitlin at the dance, and she and Clark drove over from the dance to the cabin, Caitlin seemingly on the edge because she knew that Jessica's abduction was partially because of her.

None of the three teenagers gave any hint to what really happened, and clung to their well-woven cover story with wonderful strength.

No one ever suspected from them that northeast Florida's superhero was in Kansas, no one ever suspected that Clark Kent was more than an honest, simple Kansas farmboy. None doubted that Jessica Brand had had the strength and courage to break out of Joshua Schwartz's captivity and neutralize him. None doubted her story that the destruction inside of the cabin was because of a wild, crazy fit thrown by Joshua before Jessica had knocked him unconscious.

The secrets of the Caitlin/Clark duo were never even close to being exposed.

Joshua Schwartz retained no memory of the two superheroes that had defeated him.

However, he did still retain malice towards Caitlin O'Conner, and though she now knew about it, she made no move to calm it. It was his right. While in police custody, Joshua Schwartz's abilities were tested and neutralized, and so he never made an open move against Caitlin again.

And Jessica's family swore never to let her go near Smallville, Kansas again without someone always accompanying her around.

X-X-X-X-X

"Nice job last night, Clark," Caitlin commented as she strode up to Clark during his Saturday morning chores the next day. "I couldn't've taken care of Joshua without you."

"Not so bad yourself," Clark replied, momentarily turning away from his work. He glanced at her left wrist. "Did you manage to hide that injury?"

She glanced at then lifted her sprained wrist. It was pocked with bruises all over, slightly swollen in one place… "That would be a no. Mama saw it, nearly had a cow, and so I had to tell her that I tripped in 'em heels and bruised it. She's a bit skeptical… I think it's not bad enough that she'll take me to the doctor and get the real diagnosis, though."

Clark nodded. "That's good." He quietly and easily resumed piling hay as he had been before Caitlin approached. Finally, beneath her semi-harsh stare, he found the courage to say, "Thanks for last night."

"For what last night?"

"For dropping the sarcasm for once," Clark said quietly. "It really helped me to focus more…" he trailed off into silence.

"Clark, contrary to your beliefs, I'm not always sarcastic. Oh, true, any time no one's life or wellbeing is in danger, I'm as sarcastic and smart-alecky as a fish is wet or Florida is sunshiny, but when someone's in any danger, I know when to let things go. I thought you knew I was smarter than to let a personality defect like that get in the way of saving people."

"I guess I should have." Somehow, he was finding that he always seemed to underestimate Caitlin in one way or another… maybe, one of these days he'd finally get it… finally understand her complexity.

But now—and always when he underestimated her—he found himself marveling at how special she was, how unique…

"Darn right you should have." There was no real anger, only a slight bit of annoyance beneath Caitlin's words. "Now, if you're done thankin' me for somethin' that I do naturally, I'll be gettin' back to Jessica…" Caitlin glanced at her watch. "Yeah, ten o'clock. She should be gettin' up about now."

"Late riser?"

"Yeah. She ain't had a farm life to make her wake up early like you, or the need and drive to rise up early like me…" She shook her head. "Anyway, see you Monday, Clark." She started to drift into the air as she always did, to fly away.

"Thanks anyway, Caitlin!" Clark called after her.

She smiled back at him, not pausing, and then she was gone.

Even after she was gone, Clark stared at the way she'd gone… His mind filled with thoughts of that amazing girl, and of what their future would be… as superheroes, and as friends.

* * *

**_I hope that that satisfies you guys for the next week or so. :) Reviews away!_**


	11. Practice

**_Oh, my. Sorry that this took longer than I anticipated... Please allow me to explain why: firstly, I had to write that chapter for my Star Wars story. And then I had an "off-week". Every couple of months or so, my writing totally stops for a week for some odd reason. The inspiration and desire just dims. It's in this week that I catch up on reading, get life in order, etc. So, I had school starting and life trying to speed along--as it so often wishes to do!--and so came my off-week. I am so sorry to all of you readers about this, and I totally apologize! I made this chapter long too, just for you!_**

**_Now I know it kind of ends oddly, and that it's a little rocky in places, but that's a side-effect of coming out of an off-week. Sorry!_**

**_Liz: Remember what Caitlin tells Clark in chapter 8 about patience:)_**

**_Welcome to leilanisangel, and thank you for reviewing. Also, a welcome to honeyduck and sealkid3, who have added this to their story alert lists_!

* * *

**

**Practice Makes Perfect…**

_Find your calm center, focus it. Don't ever let it slip. Hold on tightly, no matter what tries to wrench your attention away. The outside world doesn't exist, only your heart and mind and unbreakable soul. Don't—_

Without warning, the gentle swaying motion to which Caitlin had become accustomed in the past hour or so halted, then gained more momentum. Somewhat harshly, her head smacked into the car window with an audible _thump_.

"Ow," she muttered, falling out of her reverie and self-induced trance. She was supposed to be asleep, but instead she'd thought it better to put herself into a meditative state.

Slowly, she opened an eye and peered out of it at Chloe, who was sitting behind the steering wheel. Caitlin gave her a fairly harsh but still forgiving stare, which Chloe returned with a sidelong glance.

"Oh, sorry, Caitlin," she apologized with a wane smile. "I'm trying to stay awake here and drive… Not exactly a good mix unless I get some caffeine."

Caitlin nodded. It was getting fairly late and the interstate that ran between Smallville and Metropolis was rather uneventful…

"I'd offer, but I don't have my license," she said. She threw a glance into the back seat at Clark, curled and snoring lightly. "And it doesn't look like Clark will be in the mood to offer anything any time soon."

Chloe chuckled lightly. "And he was so excited that we got to be a part of this 'Junior Journalists' thing."

Caitlin nodded. Chloe didn't know it, but she'd pulled a few strings to make sure that the Smallville High Torch was included on the Metropolis Journalist Association's Junior Journalists Convention's list of invited school newspapers. It was an important step in any aspiring Metropolis-area journalist's career to be apart of the function at one point or another.

But Caitlin had other reasons for wanting to be in Metropolis this weekend.

She stretched, feeling the last bits of that somewhat elusive meditation state slipping away. She would let it slide for now, and keep Chloe company on the long drive for at least a little while. But she also knew that she needed her rest, because she would be getting next to none for the entire weekend.

This would be an entirely eventful weekend.

X-X-X-X-X

Clark was just falling onto the bed in his hotel room—it was pretty late—when there came first a light knock on his door, then it swung open of its own accord. Caitlin swept in, and pushed the door closed behind her.

"How…?" Clark began, gesturing towards the door.

She glanced back at it and flexed her fingers. "Picking locks with telekinesis is amazingly easy," she answered. "Hey, get up."

Clark squinted at her as if he was trying to keep himself awake. He halfway was. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

Clark let himself be dragged to his feet by Caitlin with minimal resistance. "That's not a good enough reason, Caitlin," he moaned. "I'm tired and want to go to sleep."

"Pfft," Caitlin breathed, rolling her eyes. "I know better, Clark. Now then, we're going to do just a little bit of exploring on Metropolis' streets. I know it's late, but we've got to get in at least some sense of groundwork before tomorrow."

Clark was still reluctant to move.

"Aw, c'mon, Clark," Caitlin said, already pushing him out the door. "You know you wanna…"

"Yeah, sure I do," he said sarcastically.

As they branched out into the hallway of the hotel, Clark began resisting harder. Caitlin gave him a none-too-soft shove but he stopped and turned to face her. "Caitlin, we probably shouldn't be out on the Metropolis streets at night anyway. It's dangerous and my parents would kill me if they found out I had been out."

"Pfft," Caitlin dismissed. "Clark, dude, in case you've forgotten, you're bullet-proof. And I'm telepathic, and can use _telekinesis_. Beyond that, I'm a _superhero_. Now don't feed me this crap about it being unsafe. C'mon, I've arrested people that are probably worse than those out on Metropolis' streets!"

With a sigh, Clark gave in.

And the two country teens hit the sidewalks of the big city, alert for trouble as only superheroes can be.

X-X-X-X-X

They'd been out in the streets for nearly a half-hour without seeing any action at all. Clark was getting more and more irritable, and Caitlin was getting annoyed—

Caitlin sensed it before she heard it: the blood-curdling scream of a child in terror, and then his mother's plea for his wellbeing. Feeling adrenaline's rush beginning to flow through her, she grabbed Clark's hand and darted into an alley in the direction of the screams. She immediately pulled off the coat that was covering her black jumpsuit, and jerked on her mask. It took Clark a couple of seconds longer, but he did manage it pretty fast and was right on her heels as she sped down the alleyway.

Her footsteps echoed in her own ears as she telepathically enhanced her hearing to pick out the source of those disturbing screams…

She picked out the sounds of a desperate mother and the click of the safety on a gun… Instantly, her awareness shot outward in that direction, and she picked up a couple of hostiles, a terrified woman and an unconscious child.

"Clark." She only had to speak his name when he wrapped an arm around her and super-sped in the direction she indicated.

Within a mere couple of seconds, they were standing right beside the trouble.

Caitlin took in the scene with a single sweep of her eyes. Two criminals stood on one side of the wide alley, deep in a city block, both clothed entirely in black, all the way from one's black ski mask to their black boots. The one that lacked a ski mask was leaning against a wall, holding a woman's purse and what appeared to be a laptop case, a hand held across the bleeding gash on his face. Trembling in fear at the business end of the other criminal's revolver lay a woman probably in her mid thirties with dark hair and a business suit. On of her arms protectively cradled an unconscious boy probably ten years old that sported a gash on his forehead and a scrape on his left cheek.

Coming in from the criminals' left side—which was left open to the alley's darker, deeper end—Clark and Caitlin were at a good place to ambush them.

"Take the one on the right!" Caitlin ordered, already diving at the one aiming the gun at the woman's head, with a palm stretched outward in a familiar gesture.

Even as the man's finger tightened on the trigger, a shield built around the woman and her son, causing the bullet to compact against it and slide helplessly to the ground. The man stared at the slightly blue-hued shield in wide-eyed awe and terror, then immediately snapped his gun out at Caitlin.

Her other palm flew outwards toward him and the revolver slid from his grasp and flew to hers. The man lost control of his turning momentum slightly, and with a little bit of telekinetic encouragement, he tripped and hit the ground on his stomach.

Caitlin was their in a heartbeat, pinning both of his arms behind his back and holding him to the ground with a knee. Letting go of one of his arms for only a second, Caitlin punched him in the side of his head, right near the temple, and he stiffened for half a second, then went slack. Satisfied that her opponent was unconscious and neutralized for the time being, Caitlin glanced over at Clark and his opponent.

After a moment's struggle, Clark had lifted the man high up above his head and pinned him to the wall. Reflexively, the man dropped both the woman's purse and her laptop and reached down for his gun…

Saving Clark the trouble, Caitlin flicked out her mental awareness towards the man and disrupted the beta centers of his mind casually.

He slumped downward, unconscious, and the hand he'd been reaching for the gun with hang helplessly at his side. Slowly and gently, Clark lowered his unconscious bulk down the wall, and laid him on the ground beside the other criminal. A quick check confirmed that both would be out for at least an hour.

"Good job, partner," Caitlin muttered to Clark as he scooped up the purse and laptop.

She slowly turned to the cowering woman, whose eyes were wide with fear and surprise. Her mouth moved in soundless stammering, and Caitlin couldn't say she blamed her.

"Are you alright?" Caitlin asked softly, in that semi-masculine tone she used so people couldn't identify her gender.

The woman nodded, her mouth still wide open. And then she seemed to find her voice. Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes narrowed. "Yes, I am. But you're not taking my stuff."

Caitlin felt her brows rise behind her mask. "Oh, don't worry about that. We're not here to steal your possessions from the ones that stole it from you, we're here to give it back." She gestured Clark forward. He set down the stuff beside the woman. "See? We're not robbers… We just want to help, and to give everything back."

The woman nodded and eased up, though Caitlin still sensed a little bit of skepticism in her.

Caitlin gestured to the boy still cradled in her arm. "And what about your son, Miss? What happened?"

The woman turned loving eyes on his slack form in the curve of her arm. "They tried to grab him earlier, and Daniel resisted…" Caitlin flinched at the name "Daniel", the name of her youngest brother. The woman stroked her son's hair, and didn't seem to notice. "He actually managed to get the one's mask off, and cut his cheek with his fingernails… The slime-ball hit him back, and kicked him even after he was on the ground. They threatened to shoot him…" She shivered noticeably. "Some people are so horrible."

"I agree, Miss…?" Caitlin trailed off suggestively.

The woman glanced up at her. "Johnson. Erica Johnson."

"Well, they never should've threatened a boy like your son, Miss Johnson. He needs to get to a hospital, though, ma'am. That gash on his forehead's not good, and the trauma he's been through will put his body into shock. They'll probably want to give him some stimulants to get him conscious while they work on that gash, too. We can get you to the ER very quickly, Miss Johnson. Would you like us to do that?"

She nodded.

"Alright, grab your things—wouldn't want you to lose those after all this—and my partner here," she gestured to the silent, tall Clark, "will take you. I'll take your son in my arms. Does that sound alright?"

Again, Miss Johnson only nodded. She stood as Clark strode towards her, and she grabbed her purse and laptop case, clutching both tightly. Clark lifted her into his arms and prepared to super-speed towards the nearest hospital, even as Caitlin lifted Daniel's limp form into her own arms.

As they prepared to dash, Miss Johnson stopped them with just a few words.

"Why did you help me? Why are you even here?"

Caitlin felt a grin find its way to her face as the rehearsed words found their way to her lips. "I'm afraid it may sound somewhat cheesy, Miss. But we're just here to fight for truth, justice and the American way."

X-X-X-X-X

Clark's eyelids drooped, and his awareness had been rather low-toned the whole morning. He couldn't seem to pay attention to anything around him, no matter how much coffee he drank. They'd been out to only about 1 or 2 that morning, having to get up at 6. It seemed Clark just couldn't seem to keep up with anything running only on 4 to 5 hours worth of sleep.

As for Caitlin, she'd gone on less before.

She actually found some humor in Clark's sleepy half-awareness. They were at the Junior Journalists' Convention's first event: a simple meeting of all editors and staffers on the area's high school—and even a couple of junior high—newspapers. Caitlin estimated that there were about two hundred or so teenagers here, all aspiring journalists. It seemed that a couple of the area's chattiest reporters had found heavy-eyed Clark, and continued to babble on no matter how little he paid attention or interacted.

One sported a name tag that read, "Metropolis Arts Academy, Southside Metropolis, Hi, my name's JARED and I work on the ARTISTIC VIBE Newspaper". The other was from Dickenson and Conners High School, also on Metropolis' Southside, and her name was Paprika—_odd_ was one word that popped into Caitlin's mind. Both seemed to be an endless source of questions and answers to unasked questions about their newspapers, Clark's, and the Smallville/Metropolis differences in those papers.

Giving a light, chuckle, Caitlin sent a little wave of stimulation into Clark's sleep fogged brain. He stirred lightly, but even her modest wave did little to waken him.

"Are they entertaining you, too?"

Caitlin turned to the source of the question, a response already forming. "But of course. What could be more interesting than a sleepy, uninteresting guy being plagued by two never-ceasing chatter boxes?"

Caitlin studied the reaction on the teenager's face fairly carefully. She smiled widely, displaying a pretty grin that went all the way up to sparkling green eyes that were surrounded by mauve glasses. She wore her blonde hair wavy and just past her shoulders, letting it sway as she nodded her head. "It is pretty interesting." She glanced at Caitlin's name tag. "So, Caitlin, your school newspaper is called the Torch?"

"Yeah," Caitlin glanced at the girl's nametag, "Gabriella. And I see you work on the Dickenson and Conners Fighting Penguins Newspaper with Paprika over there." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the girl still babbling at Clark. "I've got just one question: is it weird working for a paper called the Fighting Penguins? I'm going to assume it's named after the football team…"

"Yeah it is. But I don't work on the Fighting Penguins. I'm sorta here under a fake ID… Visiting a friend who happens to be the editor of the FP, and she had a reporter call in sick this morning… Figured I'd fill Gabriella's shoes." She smiled again. "I'm not from Metropolis, either. From a place in Tennessee called Ripley—but relocating to your Smallville."

Caitlin nodded understanding. "Cool."

She thrust a hand forward. "My name's Michele—with one L."

Caitlin shook her hand with a smile creeping up on her face. "Well, now, Michele with only one L, nice to meet you."

That roused short laughter from Michele. "Yeah, you too. Can I assume you're really into journalism and not an imposter like me?"

"Yeah, I guess you can. It wasn't really a passion in the first place. I kinda just started writing with the Torch because I was asked, and because I had to do something to keep me in the swing of writing while I was at public school…" Caitlin said, letting her mind wander somewhat. "I don't even really love journalism, like most of these people. My passion's in fiction and poetry, sometimes."

Her brows went even higher. "Poetry's mine, and sometimes fiction!"

"Kindred souls," Caitlin said jokingly. "So, Michele, you're moving to Smallville?"

"Yeah, pretty soon, actually. About a month from now."

"I just moved to Smallville about two and a half months ago."

"I thought I detected a not-so Kansas accent in there," Michele said, sort of cocking her head to one side. "You're from Georgia, I think your accent's definitely southern. That's very obvious. Can you pinpoint it for me?"

"North Florida mother, with a south Georgia father," Caitlin answered. "Raised in north Florida, until two months ago."

"Cool."

Caitlin glanced slightly at her watch. But what she glanced caught her attention, and she looked back. Oh, shoot. It was almost four! She glanced about, suddenly time-conscious, and noticed that half of the people were gone. Chloe had already told Caitlin she was going to go see a cousin of hers soon after the event started dwindling, and that Caitlin and Clark would be left without transportation.

Caitlin was alright being without a car… Black-clad superheroes didn't need them. But now she realized that she was running a little late getting out there for a patrol… Dang.

"Hey, Michele, sorry to do this, but I've gotta dash. Me and chatty Clark over there have somewhere to be, and we're already runnin' a little bit late."

"Oh, it's alright, I understand," she said, giving Caitlin a little smile. "My Metropolis weekend is rather busy too. See you tonight at the next… 'event'."

"Yeah, see you there."

Caitlin hurried over to still half-awake Clark and took his elbow. "Sorry, we've got to go!" she told the still chatting Paprika and Jared. They continued to talk to Caitlin even as she steered Clark out the door and onto the sidewalk. A fairly harsh slap of chill, early November air greeted them as she guided Clark into a dark alley.

"Oh, c'mon. Wake up, lazy farmboy. We've got work to do."

Clark stirred lightly at her words, and began pulling off his shirt so that only the jumpsuit showed. But he was still only half-present, in a stupor of sorts.

"Oh, dadgum." Caitlin slapped him across the face several times. "Wake up, sleepy head. It wasn't so bad. Five hours of sleep is heaven compared to some things I've had to endure." She slapped him again, and awakened some more.

"You're going to be outdone by a telepathic girl a year younger than you?"

He was alert now.

"That's what I thought." They were superheroes again in seconds. "Now, c'mon. We've got work to do."

X-X-X-X-X

The patrol that night was useless. Caitlin couldn't believe it, but there weren't really any little crimes going on in the whole half of Metropolis that they scanned. No purse-snatchings like the night before, no minor muggings, no burglary, and no breaking and entering. Maybe, just maybe, she speculated, the two criminals they'd scared the night before had spread the news of the superheroes that had bested them. Maybe that's why there were no small crimes going on. Maybe it was just a criminals' day off.

So the night passed rather slowly, especially during the Junior Journalists 'Present Your Papers' exhibition. Each of the fifty or so schools represented set up a small display about their paper, and students were encouraged to find out about the other papers.

Caitlin found several that she was interested in, while once-again sleepy Clark wandered almost aimlessly at her side through the whole thing.

Luckily, Caitlin steered them both clear of the two blabbering teens that had chatted with Clark earlier… As patient as she was, Caitlin wasn't sure she could stand that.

But they did see Michele for a while, and Caitlin introduced Clark with several jokes and jabs made at him, even though he really didn't notice.

Then at about nine, Caitlin decided that she'd spare Clark and help herself at the same time. She said good-bye to Michele, talked to Chloe—who was very busy telling all of the city Metropolis kids about her small-town paper. Chloe wanted to stick around, but told Caitlin that she and Clark could go on without her. The center in which the convention was being held was just a couple of blocks away from the hotel, and Caitlin half-pulled Clark the whole way.

As they reached Clark's room, Caitlin had to open the door for him.

"Hey, be prepared, I'm only gonna let you sleep till seven tomorrow," she called as he blundered towards the bed. "Who would've guessed an early-rising farmboy like yourself could get so sleepy over the course of twenty-four hours?" she added over her shoulder as she opened her own door across the hall.

His door closed quietly.

And he hadn't heard a word she said. He was already asleep.

X-X-X-X-X

Clark found Caitlin standing over him all too soon the next morning. He woke the first time she called and shook him, though, and he woke feeling much better than he had the day before. To him, that was a pretty good sign.

"Oh, get up, Clark. If you're gonna be a superhero, or even if you're just gonna hang around with me, you gotta show you've got momentum. Just to get up in the mornin', even. I can tell you're well rested this mornin'… Hey, why ain't you movin'?"

Clark put his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles in a relaxed position. "Well, you just seem really… on fire this morning. And more southern than usual, too."

She cocked an eyebrow. "It's a new mornin', and it's a Sunday mornin, so I've been up for a while already. The Lord's already got me in a good mood. An' as for the southern thing… I'm as southern now as I ever was, and ever will be. So get used to it." She glanced at a clock. "Now then, I'm givin' ya twenty minutes to get a shower, and be ready to go. We're only gonna take a quick walkin' patrol from Southside Boulevard to Metro, and East London to Ophelia."

Clark mentally reviewed the past patrols covering the six blocks encompassed in Caitlin's description. There wasn't much to remember, of course. Yesterday's patrol had been utterly fruitless, and the burglary they'd stopped the night before that had been outside of this morning's square.

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. "Alright, I'll be ready to go."

"That's twenty minutes, and only twenty minutes," she said over her shoulder as she strolled out of his room and into the hall.

He sighed and shook his head to clear the sleep. She was one spit-fire little girl, wasn't she? Like a machine too: just kept going, and going, never showing any signs of weariness. That was admirable, if not superhumanly attracting.

His shower was quick, and he was sitting on his bed, tying his shoes when Caitlin appeared in the doorway. Clark glanced up and noticed her hair was slightly rumpled, and that her face was somewhat flushed. As if she'd been standing out in the windy November air. And she was _disturbed_ by something…

But Clark knew better than to ask, or to accuse. Most likely, she'd been out mentally scanning the area, or checking outside of the square they were going to cover, and had felt something.

He finished tying his shoe, and stood. "Ready," he said.

Silently, she nodded and turned to go out the door.

Halfway into putting on his coat, Clark reached out and touched her shoulder. Caitlin turned slightly, and Clark caught the slightest blaze of annoyance in her eyes, before she tampered it out.

"What is it?" he asked after a moment's hesitancy.

She shook her head silently.

"Caitlin, what is it?" he repeated, harsher.

Caitlin opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut and shook her head again.

He turned her to face him, not exactly softly. "Tell me, Caitlin. I'm supposed to be your partner, and part of that is communicating, especially when you're down. Tell me now, before I get angry."

"Yeah, right. You and angry don't mix well, Clark."

At least the sarcasm meant she was loosening up some. "We might just start getting along if you don't hurry up and get talking." Inwardly, as far back as he could manage to keep it, Clark thought, _Hey, you're right. I'm not good at being angry._

Caitlin's eyes gained a distant look, and she was quiet for a moment. Then Clark got what he asked for, even if he didn't want it. "Something's lurkin', waitin' to happen today. This mornin', most likely. I can feel something on the even horizon… Something that I don't think will be much good for you or me. It's going to change the course of future events deeply… Something is waiting to happen that could put you and me both in danger." She glanced off to the side. "And it has to be big for me to be able to sense it in the course of time, such as it is."

For a moment, Clark could only stand there in shock. "And you're sure about this?" he asked when he found his voice. "This is one of those premonitions that you trust so much, isn't it?"

Caitlin stared him in the eye. "I'm about ninety-nine percent certain. This is so much deeper than those premonitions, Clark. I heard something almost audible when I was praying for guidance today. So I stood on the balcony outside of my room, and scanned out from myself across the course of time, as I learned to do. It was a big threatening wave in the tide. No details, just that deep, beyond-gut feeling."

"So we're not going to go on patrol, are we?" Clark asked solemnly.

"We're still going to go out on patrol, Clark," Caitlin answered. "This—whatever the heck it is—is going to happen with or without our preventing, so I figure we should just go ahead as we planned."

Clark nodded. "Then let's go."

Caitlin sighed, and the worry visibly left her, or as Clark strongly suspected, buried itself deep behind her shield of mental static. "Yes, let's."

X-X-X-X-X

To the relief of Clark and discomfort of Caitlin, nothing happened in the first five blocks they covered. Not even the small-time crimes that they had so strongly expected to encounter all across Metropolis. Maybe it was the fact that it was Sunday morning, maybe the fact that crooks were afraid of the two heroes.

No one could say.

But in Caitlin's heart, she had a feeling it was that the Lord was letting them slide easy for what was approaching.

And on that sixth block is where they encountered the trouble.

The crowd that was massing around the foot of the ten-story building on the corner nearest them seemed concerned and frantic. That drew Caitlin's attention almost immediately, and her awareness shot out to examine it closely. The concern was for someone other than themselves, that much was certain, so where—

She got the answer before she even finished the question. In the air, there was a scream so terrified and gut-wrenching that her neck snapped immediately upward.

Standing on the roof's edge of the building dead-ahead was an innocently terrified man held at gun-point by two plainclothes but painfully obvious crooks. Remarkably and stupidly, both men had no disguises, and were waving their guns at the man relentlessly, issuing orders and questions.

Caitlin's mask was already on and her coat off. She flew straight at them, a hand already flicking out to fling away the crooks' guns. They clattered against the ground even as Caitlin shot towards the criminal men.

One drew another sidearm and fired at the black-clad person coming toward him, but the bullet bounced helplessly off of an invisible shield. As that gun too was torn from his grasp, both men got the stupid idea that they could run. Both were lifted into the air by a single leg as Caitlin lifted them telekinetically… Then smashed them both into the roof.

As they rose, a well aimed and timed spin-kick on Caitlin's part took them both out. The second man was a little harder, and he managed to scrape her before he was dropped.

With a slight sigh of relief, Caitlin turned to see the man who'd been at gunpoint trembling against the waist-high railing that surrounded the entire roof. Now that she looked, she could see where he'd already been shot in the left thigh.

She strode towards him to help, but he cowered back even further.

"Don't—don't come n-n-near me!" he shouted at her.

She was still half the roof away, so she kept striding slowly towards him. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you… I just want to examine your wound…"

And his trembling intensified so bad that he toppled over the railing and fell off of the side of the building, plummeting to his sure death ten stories below. Caitlin got to the edge of the roof fast enough to see a black blur leap into the sky, four stories down from her to catch the falling man gently.

Relief flooded through her as Clark descended slowly, the crowd parting in a wide circle around him. Gently, he laid the spasming man down on the sidewalk.

Caitlin leapt over the roof's edge and telekinetically slowed her decent so that she touched down beside the man softly. She dropped to a knee and laid her palm against his forehead, placing him in easy-going sleep.

He relaxed immediately and his spasms stopped.

Caitlin's hand slipped from the man's forehead to the small hole in his pants leg, now surrounded by a ring of dark blood. It was beyond her current state to heal the man's wound by herself, most definitely.

"Ah, shoot," she muttered. Safely hidden behind the mask, she glanced up at the crowd. "Someone, call 911, _now_! We need an ambulance and the cops out here ASAP."

"Already done," answered a voice from the crowd that caused Caitlin's heart to stop cold.

She hid everything from her face even though it was concealed as she turned to the bald billionaire at the crowd's edge. What the heck was Lex Luthor in Metropolis for today? She automatically quenched the thought and muttered quick thanks, even as she heard sirens.

Time to get out of here. The cops couldn't know a couple of superheroes were running around doing their job.

"Partner," she said to Clark quickly. "Get the criminal perpetrators down from that roof now, and then we're gone."

As he disappeared into the sky quickly—and of his own accord!—she gave a self-conscious sigh. If this was all of the trouble she'd felt, she had to be happy.

It was then that she became aware of the six inch-long gash on her arm. She brushed it lightly with her fingers and they came away sticky and red. As innocent and composed as she was, she was tempted to let loose a few nasty words. But all she let escape was a short, "Dang!" She could be tracked by this.

Clark set down beside her, holding a man in each arm.

And belatedly, she noticed that one held a short knife. The tip was covered in blood.

Her blood.

Obviously, the scrape that she'd felt when she'd given the second man the spin-kick hadn't been just a scrape. She clamped a hand over the now freely-bleeding wound and grabbed the knife from the man. She couldn't afford to leave any strand of her DNA behind, by which she could be located and identified.

Caitlin gave a quick nod to Clark, and the pair shot skyward and away from the crowd as three police cars and an ambulance appeared. Applause from the crowd followed them.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin was able to disguise the wound during the next and final event of the convention. In a few short hours, Caitlin, Clark and Chloe (yeah, what's with those Cs?) would be on their way back to Smallville, this time with Clark driving and Chloe sleeping.

Clark was all too excited to get back to the sleepy little farm town and to get away from his big-city superheroics. Caitlin sensed that on some level he was grateful for the practice, and for her lessons, but he was also tired and needed time to process what had happened…

Her thoughts about processing just that were interrupted by Chloe's voice. "Hey, guess what?"

Caitlin shook the thoughts from her head as she looked up to see her editor's extremely happy face. "I'm guessing it's rather good by that look on your face, but I'm not in the mood to guess, Chlo."

Her smile dimmed ever so slightly. "Oh, I just wanted to let you know I hired your replacement on the Torch."

That caught Caitlin's attention. "What!"

"Oh, yeah. She's going to start in January, after we get back from winter break."

"But I'm not leaving until February!" Caitlin exclaimed, too wrapped up in being replaced to notice that Chloe was playing around with her.

"Yeah… She wanted to start when she moves to town next month, but there wouldn't be much point 'cause then we're going to be on winter break…"

"Michele!" Caitlin exclaimed, finally getting it. Her replacement, in about a month… "And you're joking. She's just going to be my protégé for a month, then my successor when I leave."

"Very intuitive, Caitlin. You caught on pretty quick."

"Of course I did," Caitlin replied. "You don't think I got to be where I am in life and school by not being receptive and intuitive, did you?"

"No."

"Thought not." Caitlin glanced about. "Now where's Michele? I want to congratulate her."

The answer came from behind Caitlin, and she pretended to be surprised. "I'm right here."

Caitlin turned around and gave the fellow blonde a wide grin. "Oh, congratulations, Michele. I'm going to teach you to be a better journalist from the fiction and poetry side of the tracks."

She returned the smile. "And I'll fill your shoes as good as I can when you leave."

Caitlin kept the smile up as well as she could, but for a fraction of a second, it slipped. _I'll fill your shoes as good as I can when you leave._

Somehow, the words pained her beyond description. She knew she was leaving in just a couple of months—that fact couldn't be denied no matter how hard she tried—but it still hurt to know she'd have to leave Smallville and the Kansas life behind. Sure the thought of Yulee and beach and the Florida lifestyle overruled the pains, but it was still there, a tiny jab in her heart.

Her place would be filled by someone else.

No, it would be halfway filled. The thought that no one could replace her as a superhero and mentor to Clark calmed that pain. Michele—and others—could try and fill her shoes as much as they liked, but of course, Caitlin O'Conner was irreplaceable.

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**_So, once again, sorry it took so long, but I hope this made up for it. And please, continue to review, everyone. And hopefully the next chapter will be up shortly!_**


	12. Investigation

**_It's here once again, the new chapter. Didn't keep y'all waitin long at all, now did I? It's out quick, and I hope you're all very happy with it. Probably not, since you didn't review on the last chapter... Hmm._**

**_Anyway, please leave reviews on this one, and it's short, just FYI. And it's a bit of a cliffhanger at the end, too. :) Enjoy._

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Investigation

Telepathic memory enhancing was a fairly easy thing, and Caitlin had noticed when she first discovered her abilities just how much sharper her memory naturally was with them. However, when one wasn't even halfway paying attention in the particular area one wished to recall, it got not only complicated, but difficult.

She closed her eyes again, and drew up the image of the crowd around her, the slightly chill November sky behind peaking around the various faces and cityscape behind… Yes, there, of course was Lex Luthor.

"Already done," his voice echoed in her memory once again.

Concentrating as hard as she could, Caitlin tried to remember her telepathic readings from that moment and afterward… Dang. There was next to nothing there. She'd been too focused on stopping the blood flowing in her arm wound and the safety of the injured man to pay much attention to the all too familiar billionaire.

That could be bad. He could suspect things… And she wouldn't even know because she'd been too dadgum engrossed in other things.

Dang.

Her eyes fluttered open to see Clark just where he'd been when she closed her eyes: sitting there at his Torch office desk, watching her intently.

His dazzling blue eyes were interested and concerned. He hadn't thought much at first when she'd belatedly realized in front of him the dangers meeting Lex Luthor yesterday in Metropolis could pose. Clark—being the innocent, never-suspecting farmboy that we all know and love—had denied that Luthor could be any threat.

Then Caitlin spilled out for him the intricate details of just what Lex Luthor could do with the identities of the two super teens, and just how easy it could be for him to reach that conclusion in the first place.

"No, I still have nothing, Clark," she said, sighing. "I was focused on other things… And without specifically scanning out for Lex's thoughts on the matter, I would have absolutely no way of knowing just how much he suspects. Or if he even suspects anything at all—which I think is a possibility."

Clark drew in and blew out a deep breath slowly. "So that only leaves us—or more like you—with one option."

Surprised by his obvious intuition in the matter, Caitlin cocked a brow. "And that would be…?"

"A journalist's first choice: go straight to the source."

For a moment, Caitlin gave him a thoughtful frown. "Ah, great idea." The frown disappeared and she launched right into sheer planning mode. "Yeah, I can go to him, maybe gently and carefully prick and pry at him… Hmm. I'll have to be careful… he's likely to be alert and prepared for people's prying…"

"Should I come with you?"

"No. You'll just be a distraction to me."

"Nice to know I'm needed."

"And once again my sarcasm has found you." Caitlin gave him a smile. "But I'm sorry, Clark. I don't see you anywhere in this neat little plan that's forming. It's not only easier for me to read intentions and thoughts one-on-one, but I'm afraid you might slip-up, not being well-trained in this type of thing. No offense."

"None taken," Clark replied coolly, cocking his head. "So, how exactly are you going to go about this?"

Caitlin began pacing the floor lightly, head down in concentration. "Well, I'll need a tightly woven cover story, a perfect one to get it past Lex undetected." For a moment, lost in their own thoughts, both were silent. "…And I've got absolutely nothing," Caitlin conceded after a moment.

Resignedly, she plopped down into her desk chair. "So much for being brilliant." Clark was still silent, and Caitlin turned curious eyes on him. "But by that look on your face, Mr. Kent, I'd say that you found something." She couldn't hide the smirk that appeared on her face. "I always knew that that little head of yours was good for something."

He looked up with a smile on his own face. "Yeah, I've got your cover story, and it's perfect."

"Alright, Clark, let's hear it."

X-X-X-X-X

Lex Luthor was sitting at his desk, reading what Caitlin knew to be reports from LuthorCorp when she was ushered in. Her father was often engrossed in reading similar things…

As soon as the oak wood double-doors swung closed behind her, Lex glanced up. His blue eyes caught the multi-colored light streaming through the room's tall stained-glass windows oddly… striking Caitlin as seeming evil.

"Ah, Caitlin, just the girl I've been wanting to see," he said, rising. "Why are you here?"

_Wanting to see?_ Caitlin's mind snapped immediately to full attention, and she lightly looked over Lex's surface emotions. Dang, there were almost none. She couldn't name too many times where this had happened before with anyone she'd skimmed… Perhaps Lex Luthor's mind was simply too complex for his emotions to be felt in a quick pass.

"Well, Lex, I'm here to ask you a few unofficial questions for my dad's plant…" That was the first bit of her cover story. Find out gently why he'd been in Metropolis this weekend in the first place. "And Clark said you were the one to see about getting a little article of mine in the Daily Planet—under a pseudonym, of course." And that was the second part: see if he had been doing business with the newspaper that sponsored the Junior Journalists convention. "He says you've got connections."—And that half wasn't entirely lies… She did have some work she'd like the Planet to look at, and she knew Lex could get it on the big wigs' desks.

"Well, I won't deny I've got connections, but I'm not sure mine are good enough to get a fifteen year old girl's work in a big-city paper," Lex said, walking around his desk. "You're good, but I'm not sure you're that good. No offense."

"None taken," Caitlin said, taking it all in stride. "I didn't come into this with high expectations, anyway. Wise was the man who said to dream big, but wiser still was the one that said you can't win them all."

Lex smiled lightly.

Caitlin took a few sheets of paper from the folder under her arm, and handed them to the billionaire. Clearly printed across the top were the story's title, and her pseudonym: Us Small-Town Folk Support you Big-City Slickers by Mary-Katherine Tomma. Really, she couldn't care less if it made it into the Daily Planet, though that might be cool. Her heart was in fiction, and even her pseudonym story finding its way into a newspaper couldn't compare with how she knew it would feel to one day see a book with her name across its cover sitting on store shelves. So really, she decided with an inward sigh, this too was simply a sham to read Lex Luthor.

Lex's eyes flicked back and forth as he skimmed it. "I'll try and get it in for you, Caitlin. But once again, I can't promise anything."

"I understand, Lex."

He laid the papers behind him on the desk. "So, what I wanted to know was this… When you and Clark were in Metropolis over the weekend, did you hear about those 'superheroes' and that ordeal Sunday morning on Ophelia Boulevard?"

_Oh, shoot_, Caitlin thought. This was going in the direction she wanted… though not by the manner she planned. If Lex was steering it this way, it just might blow her cover story wide open.

"Yeah, vaguely," she answered aloud, trying invisibly to hide her surprise and unease. Yes, there was a flaw in the slaw, but she wouldn't let Lex know that. "It's weird as far as I know about it. Do you know what happened?"

"Yeah, I do. It happened right in front of my face."

_Tell me something I don't know, Lex. You were right in front of my face, ya know. _"Really? You were in Metropolis this weekend too?"

"Just Sunday morning. I had a meeting at LuthorCorp."

Good. At least now she was making progress. Lex's business in Metropolis had nothing to do with the convention… just work. That was good. Now if she could just keep on the good roll…

"So, what happened?"

"There was a robbery at the Central Kansas Bank of Metropolis, and two of the robbers chased an accountant up onto the roof," he began. "They shot at him, missed and hit him in the leg, which caught everyone's attention. Then before they could shoot him again, two tall black-clad people—I think there was a man and a woman—_flew_ out of no where and the woman took the robbers out by herself. Bullets couldn't even touch her! Then the accountant fell off of the roof, and the man caught him and the woman put him to sleep. I called the police and an ambulance, and as soon as the authorities got there, the two took off. It was amazing."

Caitlin almost frowned, but caught herself in time. Lex's recount seemed just a little out of character for him, especially the wide-eyed declaration of "It was amazing." But a quick telepathic scan told her he was being truthful, for the most part.

Hallelujah. That was good news.

Unconsciously, Caitlin rubbed her arms in the way she did when she was nervously trying to hide something from her face. And so, so stupidly, accidentally pushed up her sleeve the tiniest bit, allowing a red scrape to come into view. She'd done some healing on it as soon as she'd gotten the strength, but for the most part she'd left it alone.

And almost immediately, Lex spotted it. "What happened to your arm?"

Caitlin glanced it quickly, realizing her stupidity. "Oh, nothing. I just tripped and fell… Seems chips of concrete can give you pretty nasty scratches if they get you the right way." Quickly, she covered it, glancing at her watch in the process. Thank the Lord, it was time to make a quick exit. "Well, Lex, I've gotta run."

Lex's face seemed to be totally accepting of her explanation, and her quick departure, but his mental state suggested somewhat otherwise.

Dang, there went her cover story. Blown off wide…

Maybe not, she reasoned. He just suspected otherwise about the scratch on her arm… That could be understood…

"Well, bye, Caitlin," Lex said even as she turned and made her way out.

"Bye, Lex."

Outside of those wide oak doors, she sighed relief at her discoveries. That was good… Lex didn't suspect anything… She would definitely sleep easier tonight.

X-X-X-X-X

Lex Luthor watched intently as the double doors swung shut behind Caitlin O'Conner's back. She was a fascinating piece of work, that girl. Very odd…

And if his speculation was correct, she could very well be a useful asset and outlet in the future… But first he'd just have to prove that assumption.

All clues pointed towards it, but he needed evidence. Evidence would set his theory in cement, and then he'd be able to use her how he deemed necessary…

Mentally, Lex thought of everything that supplemented his theory… There was enough for a normal person to have utterly confirmed it, but Lex Luthor was—contrary to popular belief—a cautious man.

Caitlin O'Conner had been in Metropolis this weekend, at the same time as the superhero stunts Sunday morning outside that bank. Possibly coincidence. She'd had nowhere to be that pertained to the convention that morning. Another possible coincidence. She was from northeast Florida, particularly an area that had been known to have a possible superhero—or a really good con-artist—in their midst. Once again, that could just be coincidence. She was abnormally tall for a woman, like that black-clad superhero on Metropolis's streets. So were many other people. She had that scrape on her arm, in the exact same place where the hero had been slit with a knife yesterday morning… If that too was coincidence…

Lex got up from his desk and strode out of this particular office/lounge room, into the long hallway beyond. From there he turned to one specific door that was always locked, forbidden even to the cleaning staff. He slid the key from his pocket and unlocked the door…

The room beyond was of medium size, fairly non-descript… There was no illumination, save that from a half-circle of displays against the far wall, most of which was taken up by a screen running a computerized model of a car running off of a bridge and hitting a figure in the process… Others included pictures of a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, flannel-clad farmboy in various situations…

For the moment, he ignored all of this. He'd seen it a million times.

No, now he was interested in the newest corner of this whole display.

This latest corner was the leftmost fringe of the entire wide display, and the center of these was not a Kansas farmboy. No, rather it was a backwoods Floridian girl.

One photo was a simple class picture. Short blonde hair framed a not quite beautiful face, deep, dark eyes and a brilliant smile. Beside it, a police report—acquired by paying off an easy Metropolis police department archivist—scrolled past. Below both of these played a tape of the incident atop the bank, complete with a sound recording of the woman speaking to the crowd.

Yes, there was almost enough here to confirm that theory... Now if he could only catch her in the act…

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**_Now, I told you there was a cliffhanger! I wonder if he'll figure it out... Hmm..._**

**_Just a question for you reviewers: who out of these is your favorite added character: Olivia, Jessica or Michele? Please let me know._**


	13. Thankful

**_I'm just getting these chapters out mighty quick, ain't I now? Sorry if this one took a little longer than others... I had to stop and write a short Dukes of Hazzard story right in the middle. Really, I'd like it if some of you guys read it._**

**_Welcome to countryLexluv, and Mirichi--who has been reading (but not reviewing) all along._**

**_And oddly, there were no reviews on the last chapter... hmm..._**

**_Anyway, this one's dedicated to the victims of Hurricane Katrina, and I hope you'll all see why.

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**Lesson Three: Give Thanks**

_Tolerate, change, or be thankful. –Unknown_

"_Therefore I will give thanks to You, Oh Lord, among the nations." -2 Samuel 22:50a_

_The only people that ever get anything out of life are those that see its glories, gifts and high points, then are grateful. –Caitlin O'Conner_

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin was halfway done with her packing when Clark walked up the stairs into her apartment. Her suitcase was open, clothes and personal things neatly stacked inside along with what looked like a fair amount of books and notebooks.

"When does your plane leave?" Clark asked.

Caitlin glanced at her watch. "Four hours."

Clark took up a seat in Caitlin's computer chair as she continued to scurry around placing things in her bag.

"Why do you have to go to Yulee for Thanksgiving?" Clark finally asked.

"Maybe to spend it with the family and friends that I'm giving thanks for?" Caitlin returned sarcastically. "Did that thought ever cross your mind?"

"You're not thankful for your friends here?" Clark prompted.

"Of course I am. Clark, I have everything to be thankful for here in Smallville, but I have all that and everything I grew up to love and adore back in Yulee. I'm thankful for two homes and every thing I could ever need, but it's also hard."

"Everything to be thankful for?" he repeated. "No offense, Caitlin, but your family doesn't have much."

Immediately, Caitlin stopped what she was doing, and turned to face Clark. "Clark, is that what you think that being thankful is about?" She sighed and sat down across from Clark on the bed. "That thankfulness about having everything you could want?"

Clark opened his mouth, but Caitlin's stare and her hand stopped him.

"Clark, I think it's time for lesson three," she said. "What are you thankful for, Clark Kent?"

"My parents and home and friends and—" he began.

"Why?" Caitlin interrupted.

Clark had a feeling that this was where she was going to get the essence of her lesson from… Making him relearn and rethink all he ever thought he knew. That was just her style. "I—I…," he stammered, racking his brain for an answer. "I guess because without them I'd be lost and pitiful."

"How would you know? You've never had to get along without them. You've never had to lose someone that you were grateful for in the first place, and I know it. I can see it in the way you live, Clark. You are one of those kinds of people that will not fully appreciate the value of anything you have until it's gone. And then when what you treasure is gone, you will be broken because you never stopped to appreciate it in the first place."

Clark was shocked by Caitlin's detailed analysis, one that he never would've seen in himself. "But how can you tell?"

"Because I am not one of those kinds of people," Caitlin stated. "I am quite the opposite. I have learned to appreciate what I have long before it is gone, because I had to learn the hard way long, long ago."

_What happened? _Clark thought. He definitely knew better than to ask Caitlin what she'd gone through to cause that to happen.

"Clark, the essence of being thankful, truly thankful, is not saying you know you would be lost without what you have. The essence of thankfulness is feeling that what you have is special, and that without loved ones' selfless love, you yourself would be impossible. In my case, I personally believe that without a certain Holy One's love and generosity, my life would be a worthless nothing. And so I give thanks."

Clark's mind was spinning as he tried to grasp the concept. He'd been told that thankfulness was simply being aware of what one had. But by Caitlin's explanation, it was so, so very much deeper than that.

"You don't have to wrap your mind around it now," Caitlin broke into his thoughts. "I don't expect you to fully grasp the concept for a long while to come. It took me a while to get it."

Clark nodded, and seeped into his thoughts as Caitlin took up packing once more.

If being grateful and thankful was knowing that someone else's love and selflessness made your life possible, why did everyone diminish it as less? If people had the wrong idea of thankfulness in general, did that mean that they were really ungrateful?

People considered thankfulness a feeling, but really, didn't they see it as a thought that the object was there for a reason?

They didn't see it the way that Caitlin was telling him it was, that much was obvious. She said that it was a feeling that sprouted from knowing someone loved you enough to perhaps sacrifice for your happiness…

Slowly, Clark was beginning to see it.

His mind was processing through things and seeing the underlying content behind Caitlin's words, things she had only conveyed, not said.

Clark smiled and glanced up at her to tell her so…

Then he noticed that she'd slumped down on the edge of the bed, eyes staring up and off to nothing he could see, her jaw hanging slightly open.

"Caitlin?" he asked lightly.

She didn't stir in the least.

"Caitlin?" he repeated. When she remained still, he got out of his chair and moved towards her. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and repeated her name one more time. "Caitlin."

This time, she stirred. Then she shook her head as if to clear it, and returned to the room in which she actually sat. Her eyes closed and she drew in a couple of deep breaths before she acknowledged Clark.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," she said, glancing up at him.

Clark studied her face, and could tell she was disturbed. "What happened?"

Closing her eyes, she sighed again. "Clark, instead of attempting to explain it to you, I want to show it to you," she said. "Sit down in front of me on the floor, and close your eyes."

He obeyed, kneeling like a knight before a queen.

Gently, she pressed her fingertips to his forehead, and not quite as gently, invaded his mind. Her spicy-sweet presence enveloped Clark's mind for a moment, before she did anything else.

And then she let the scene drift up to his mind's eye.

Everything was grey, colored by the lack of sun making its way through the thick blackened cloud cover too low overhead. Lightning split the sky everywhere, obscured by the clouds and thick sheets of harsh rain. The wind was howling relentlessly, ripping roofs off of homes and other buildings, tossing trees and debris all around in the air.

And that's when he noticed the water.

It poured in from no apparent source: endless amounts of dirty salt water, cold and unwelcoming. It rushed and pressed around on all sides, flowing openly and unchallenged down the roads, sidewalks, alleys… Nothing could stop it, it just went.

And then with a bright, vision-obscuring _flash!_ it was all gone.

He stood on a building now, looking down over incomparable destruction. Stagnant sea water filled the streets, causing various objects of every size, shape and type to float around the city…

The water was no longer just semi-clear sea water either. It was dirty and dark and of course filled with debris.

Upset and sorrow-filled voices filled the air, calling the names of family members now gone, lost or dead… And then angry, strife-filled voices arguing. But even more unanimous was the one word that could be heard ringing out.

"Help!"

With a deep, heart-felt shudder, Clark watched the torn-apart city fade into Caitlin's face.

"Wha—what was th—that?" he asked her, his voice shaking.

"A vision of the future," she said tightly. "That is something that will happen in years to come."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it was a hurricane," Caitlin said. "It really gets you thinking of what we were talking about, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Clark asked.

"Everyone who will be trapped there, Clark. They will lose almost everything… many of them _will_ lose everything. They will come down to the bare necessities, and learn just what it is that they took for granted. They'll realize how ungrateful they were when they _had_ everything _to_ lose when they are vulnerable and _have_ lost everything."

Clark nodded.

"Caitlin, it's time to go!" Mrs. O'Conner called from the door to Caitlin's apartment.

Quickly, Caitlin stood and grabbed her suitcase, moving towards the door. Clark preceded her out, opening the doors in front of her, and closing them behind.

Just before she took the pathway around to the front of the house and her waiting family and Clark went in the other direction to his parked truck, she grabbed his arm.

"Clark, please, promise me that it won't take something like that to make you grateful for what you have," she said, staring into his face. "I do believe that is a hurricane that will occur in the future, but take a group of tornados in your case. Don't let that be the teacher to show you the way to gratefulness."

"I won't," Clark promised.

Caitlin gave Clark a quick hug. "See you in a few days." And she turned and ran off.

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**_Now I hope you caught the part about Katrina... Remember this takes place in 2003, so that is quite a while before she ever hit New Orleans._**


	14. Elimination

**_Woohoo! Chapter 14 is here! What is with you people not reviewing lately? Hmm?_

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**Exposure and Elimination**

"Where do you want me to go again?" Clark asked for what Caitlin assumed was probably the tenth time.

"Jeez, you don't listen, do you?"

"Well… Generally I listen, but there's just something about you that makes me want to stop."

"And there's something about your lack of listening that makes me want to slap you, then stop talking altogether, because it goes in one ear and out the other."

"Don't quit talking, I need you to tell me the street name again," Clark said, beginning to get annoyed. "Slowly, especially with the details."

"See if you can read them out of my head slowly."

"Caitlin!"

"Okay, fine," she huffed. "State Road 57, just past the intersection with Interstate 135, west of the LuthorCorp plant. The papers say that the police have been having a lot of trouble in that area lately. We're gonna head out and give them some help," she drew out extremely slowly. "Did you catch all of that?"

"Of course I did. What do you think I am? Deaf?"

"Do you _really_ want me to answer that?"

"No."

"I didn't think so," Caitlin said, beginning to laugh. Clark set himself up for those sorts of sarcastic comments that he disliked so much, but once in a while, she decided to show him that. "Anyway, pick me up and let's get moving. Sleeping for a couple of hours on a cramped airplane has made me very anxious."

Right… She'd just gotten back from four days—which all passed very slowly for Clark—in Florida.

Shaking off any thoughts of resentment, Clark did as she instructed and wrapped an arm around her middle. He took off running at top speed in the directions she'd described.

The already black-clad pair sped through the night towards Metropolis, oblivious of the danger and peril that awaited them on State Road 57.

X-X-X-X-X

"We're ready, Mr. Luthor," said Lex's aide. "Everyone and everything is in place."

"Good," Lex replied, still staring at the stretch of road leading towards Smallville. He expected the two superheroes to be coming down it at any minute, falling directly into his trap…

As if on cue, a black clump came out of the night, falling down right in the middle of the road and separating into two figures. The taller one immediately fell flat to the ground, buckling over and losing his grip on the smaller one. As the taller one fell face down to the pavement surrounded by glowing green rocks, the smaller turned her tumble into a shoulder roll and came up in a martial-arts style stance.

The sound of the safeties clicking off of twenty guns filled the night air around them, causing the larger to look up through his obvious agony, and the smaller to crouch further down.

Lex willingly let himself be jerked out from under the cover of a building as the cool metal ring of a revolver muzzle pressed to the side of his head. He knew that it was empty, and there were no bullets in it, but that didn't stop the shiver than ran down his spine as a million memories flooded into his head.

"Don't make a move, or Luthor gets it!" called the man holding the gun to Lex's head.

Lex let the man shove him out towards the pair of superheroes, the gun never leaving Lex's temple. He purposely stumbled a couple of times and with his hands being tied behind his back, he couldn't catch himself. He purposely scraped his cheek before his "captor" hauled him upright.

Lex also deliberately fell down at the smaller figure's feet as if in submission.

The revolver muzzle left his temple and its owner backed away towards the half-invisible ring of people aiming at the still posing figure and her still writhing companion. Even in the pitch black cover of night, Lex could see all of the guns—pistols, revolvers, even a couple of high-powered shotguns—aimed at the trio.

Of all twenty of Lex's men standing ready, twenty held their fingers over their respective triggers.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin O'Conner did not twitch in the face of danger, nor did she falter in the face of the peril that faced her now. She had counted twenty guns already, and knew that there were two more loyal henchmen hiding further in the shadows. She wouldn't be able to move twenty muzzles off course all at once, nor quick enough to prevent all bullets from coming through.

No, most likely that way she would take a few bullets.

Clark lay writhing in agony behind her, obviously affected by the green meteor rocks—hadn't he one time called them "Kryptonite"?—that lay scattered across the ground. Beside her on the ground Lex Luthor knelt, trying to for all of the world to look innocent and blameless. Caitlin knew better. He radiated deception, practically oozed it. Caitlin strongly suspected that he had figured out just who she was, took the gamble that her companion—desperately she hoped Clark still remained anonymously in the background—was a meteor-freak and weakened or affected by the meteor rocks…

And he sat in wait at the most likely place for the super duo to appear…

Caitlin had to give Lex credit. He _was_ cunning.

Inspiration struck as two tranquilizer guns appeared amongst all of the rest.

Immediately, Caitlin snapped both arms up, directly over her head. As all the guns aimed directly at her, she brought them down wide, palms to the ground.

Every single fragment of glowing green rock was swept from the road by her high-powered gust of telekinetic wind, sending it all scattering off of the highway and into the ditches.

Released from torment, Clark leapt to his feet.

As triggers were pulled and bullets leapt towards her, Caitlin ducked down, protectively wrapping herself around Lex Luthor. Clark in turn cradled Caitlin—and Lex by extension—in his body like a protective shell.

With constant ringing noises, bullets ricocheted off of Clark's impenetrable skin and littered the ground all around them.

Eyes closed in concentration, Caitlin counted off the number of bullets that bounced off of Clark…

…And now, they must be out of bullets.

She pushed out from under Clark and swept a palm out wide, sending a long-standing wave of telekinetic force out and smashing now-disarmed men into the ground, buildings, each other… Even the two back-up men. She had just tackled the last one when arms wrapped around her neck from behind…

Before Caitlin could throw Lex Luthor from her shoulders, her mask slipped off of her head and golden hair fell free…

Across Lex's face passed shock as Caitlin turned fully around, giving him a wide glimpse of her face…

And then her fist flew out quickly and struck his face. He crumpled unconscious to the concrete with a slight thump. He lay there, looking entirely innocent in oblivion…

Clark was sprawled on his back a few feet away, a green meteor rock on his chest as agony made him writhe again. His mask too was pulled back, revealing his face. Caitlin flicked a hand and the rock flew off of Clark's chest. Clark shook his head and stood.

"What happened here, Caitlin?" Clark asked, strength slowly returning. "I only remember pain from the Kryptonite…"

Caitlin couldn't bring herself to tell Clark that Lex had set them up, not yet. "Some LuthorCorp employees kidnapped Lex and ambushed us," she lied. "Don't worry, they're all unconscious now."

Caitlin slipped her mask back on, and knelt beside Lex. Quickly, she pressed fingers to his forehead, and effectively blanked all memory of this entire incident. He would remember nothing of her identity at all, not even the faintest suspicion that Caitlin O'Conner was a telepathic hero would remain.

He also wouldn't be able to recall this incident, nor the fact that Clark was weakened by the meteor rocks.

"Clark, scoop up Lex," Caitlin instructed as she hurried to Lex's men. "He won't remember anything that happened… neither will the revolting employees, soon…"

All remained unconscious, and she made sure none of them remembered this incident either. Fatigue nibbled at her now that she was done blanking twenty-three men's memories, threatening to make her collapse soon.

She pushed it back further in her mind.

"No, wait," she said, even as Clark lifted Lex over one shoulder.

"What?"

"Pick up as many of them as you can, and head back to LuthorCorp," Caitlin instructed, lifting one man over her own shoulder. "Lay them all out in a single lab, even Lex. We're going to make it look like an explosion knocked them all out."

Clark nodded, and began lifting more men onto his shoulders and into his arms.

Caitlin was only able to carry two in her weakened state, but Clark carried five. It took them four trips to get everyone situated, and Caitlin was exhausted, barely able to walk afterwards. And so Clark had to carry her all the way home, up the stairs to her apartment even.

Before Clark was even out the door, she had fallen on the bed, fast asleep. That night, her dreams were plagued by Lex Luthor, taking over the world and exposing her identity.

And in the dreams,Clark stood simply by watching as Caitlin was destroyed by the bald billionaire.

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**_Please, take the time to leave reviews, people!_**


	15. Death

**_I'm sorry if this took a little long... I was writing the sequel to my Dukes of Hazzard story right smack dab in the middle! Ah!_**

**_Anyway, this is chapter 15, and there will be 5 more chapters. After those, I'm posting a calendar of Caitlin's six months in Smallville to help you guys out, and then I'm moving on. sigh It seems too short ago that I started this whole story... Anyway, review._**

**_This chapter is totally and completely dedicated in loving memory of Brenda Yvonne Bell Carter,1957-1997. You're forever in the hearts of our town and your family, Nanee. Or as you are now often called, the "Yellow Rose of Peace." God Bless You._

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**Lesson Four: Death**

"Now you're coming in on a Friday, so it's really hectic," Caitlin told the shorter, blonder teenager walking at her side. "We're trying to get everything in so we can get the issue out on Monday. Our only permanent staff at the Torch is me, Clark and Chloe. However, we've got about three or so freelancers working for us at any given point… Most of our photographers are, and only work on a couple of issues…"

She stopped before opening the door to the newspaper office. "And be careful in there… Chloe's likely to be in a caffeine mode."

Michele nodded, and Caitlin could tell she was skeptical about what they'd find behind the door…

Opening it, she slipped inside with Michele behind her. Inside the little office, Chloe was hurrying back and forth between her computer and the printer, where her latest story was printing. She was fidgeting constantly as she impatiently waited.

"Chloe, I've got my story on my computer…" Caitlin said, already moving to her desk. "Give me a minute and I'll get it printed for you…"

Chloe threw a glance over her shoulder at them. "Okay, get it over ASAP. Hey, Michele," she added, noticing her for the first time. "Enjoying your first day at Smallville High?"

Michele nodded at the corner of Caitlin's vision. As she opened her mouth, Michele was almost knocked over as Clark came hurrying blindly through the door.

"I got those pictures you wanted, Chloe," he said, waving a stack of papers in the air. "Sorry, Michele. Didn't see you there."

Straightening up and quickly stepping away from the door, Michele nodded. "It's alright, Clark. I'm fine."

Caitlin suppressed a chuckle as she clicked the "Print" button, sending the command to the printer across the room. She stood as it began printing, done with all the work she had today, as far as she knew.

"That's all I've got today, right, Chlo?" she asked her editor even as she turned towards the door.

"Mm-hmm," Chloe acknowledged from her own computer.

Before leaving, she turned to Michele. "I think you oughta sit this one out alone with our Madam Editor, get these ropes from her." Throwing a glance over her shoulder and lowering her voice, Caitlin added, "If she starts getting irritable, just make sure she gets some more coffee. I suggest you get outta here after a couple of hours though… She gets really bad after that." Adding a wink, she swept out the door before Michele could protest.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin was standing at her locker, back to the hall, writing in a small journal when Clark approached. The school was already emptied of most students, only those on afternoon extra-curriculars being left.

"What's today's date?" she asked before he even said anything.

"I think it's the nineteenth," he answered after a moment's hesitation.

Suddenly, Caitlin stiffened up and dropped her pencil. "December nineteenth…" she whispered slowly. "December… nineteenth…"

Alarmed, Clark laid a hand on her shoulder. "Caitlin?"

"Nineteenth and I didn't even remember…"

"Caitlin?"

Slowly, she turned and Clark read despair and sorrow on her face, something he had never seen there before. It was etched there sharply, looking as if it had been there forever.

Now Clark was really concerned. "Caitlin, what's wrong?"

Down the hall a ways, one of the extra-curricular clubs still meeting let out, and about twenty people poured out of a room and into the corridor. Caitlin's glance took them in immediately, and her eyes stayed there as she whispered to Clark.

"Not here, not now. Meet me in an hour at Crater Lake."

Quickly, she swung her backpack onto her back, slammed her locker shut and hurried down the hall away from Clark.

Frowning, he silently watched her go.

X-X-X-X-X

An hour later, right as he was expected, Clark was at the Crater Lake dock. He could see Caitlin sitting on the end, staring at the water. Slowly, cautiously, he walked down the dock towards her.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Caitlin said before he was halfway down the dock. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

Clark sat on the dock beside her, pulling his coat tighter around him as a gust of wind hit him. Summer's warmth and fall's mild weather were gone, replaced by winter's biting chill. "What was bothering you?" he asked.

"It's quite a story… promise you won't interrupt until the end."

"I promise."

With a sigh, Caitlin launched into her story. "My mother had four siblings, just as I have. Two brothers, two sisters. One of her sisters and both of her brothers were a considerable bit older, while the last sister is only a few years younger. For years after her father left their family, my mother and her baby sister were separated from the rest of the family, raised by grandparents as her mother worked all day, all night. So as you can imagine, when she got to see her other siblings for good, they were tighter than kernels on corn. Especially my mother and her older sister.

"Now, my aunt was always the sweetest woman that ever walked the face of this earth, kind and definitely considerate of others before herself. When I was young, as you can imagine, I grew extremely attached. Around the time I was four and five, I was spending as much time with her as I was my own mama.

"Her name was Brenda, but all of her nieces and nephews—there are a bunch of us, mind you—called her Nah-nee.

"Around the time I turned six, Nanee started having health problems. Nothing major to start, just mild headaches."

Sighing, Caitlin pushed hair from her face. Slowly, her voice began to falter. "And slowly, they got worse. She was hospitalized in late September, not quite a month after I turned six years old, and the doctors found a huge tumor on her brain. By that time, it was too far along for the doctors to do anything.

"Everyone was at the hospital that night, even my aunt and uncle from Georgia, five hours away. But me and the rest of my siblings were forced to spend the night with cousins, as we had school the next morning. Everyone was there but us as Nanee's health finally failed, and the doctors could do nothing."

Staring out at the reflection of the twilight sun against the lake, a single tear rolled down Caitlin's face. "And so we lost her, and I lost her without ever getting a real chance to thank her for everything she ever did."

A surge of pure sympathy for Caitlin welled up in Clark's heart. That was just incomprehensible… She'd lost someone as close to her as her own mother when she was just six years old… And now Clark saw just what Caitlin was talking about during the lesson about giving thanks…

She'd learned the hard way at a young age just what thankfulness was, and how not having it could ruin a life.

"Oh, Caitlin, I'm so sorry…"

Raising a brow at him, she chuckled in reply. "Thank you very much, but all the sympathy in the world makes no difference. I never understood why people say that… they can't bring her back."

"What made you think of her today?"

"December nineteenth was her birthday, Clark. She would've been forty nine this year."

"Are you really okay?" he asked sincerely.

After a moment's contemplation staring at the water, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright. Loss like this is an endless pain, stretching until I see her again on the other side. At the beginning, it was a stabbing, boundless pain as vast as the universe, like a twisting knife in the gut. Slowly, you become more and more immune to it, until at a point nine years later, it's just a little ache, a faint whisper of what it was."

Slowly, Clark nodded.

"Of course, the fact that I've come to terms with it and the Good Lord's reasoning can only help."

Clark frowned. "How could you do that? She was taken from you at a tender age and—"

"—and life wouldn't be the way it is if she were still around," Caitlin cut in. "I would never have learned to come to terms with death in the way I have, I could never pass on what I've learned, and quite possibly I never could've been prepared for the future. I believe that God's power and reasoning is as big and boundless as His never-ending love, and He saw what we needed. Besides, I'm willing to bet he just couldn't keep Nanee away from Him any longer." She gave him a wink.

Ignoring the playful jest, Clark pressed with questions. "But could you really be happy knowing that she would be sad, being snatched away from everyone she loved?"

"I can," Caitlin replied, nodding. "If she would've lived, she would've been paralyzed, or worse. This way, she got to see the God she loved so extremely much, and escaped her pain. And I think she's up there right now, staring down."

Frowning, Clark shook his head. "I still don't understand. How in the world can you stand stuff like this? How can anyone stand things like this, even after nine years?"

Sighing, Caitlin resumed staring at the water as she spoke to Clark. "You have to understand that time itself is an ebbing comfort on the pain, but knowing that Nanee is happier now than she ever was in life helps. Sometimes you just have to let go, Clark, and let things be as they are. Nothing I could ever do could've saved her, and that realization in itself takes a multitude of pain and regret off of my chest. I let go. For a while, I was so wrapped up in the fact that she was gone, I wouldn't and couldn't let it go. As time passes and the pain naturally ebbs, one can actually choose to release the pain. Yes, I'm still sad and sorry that she's not physically with me anymore, but the hurt is just a distant pang. Without release, it would still be that twisting knife in the gut."

Seeming unspeakably weary and wise beyond her years today, Caitlin sighed again.

"Another thing, Clark." Turning slightly, she stared him in the eye with serious written all across her face. "In your career as a superhero, there will be people that may die on your watch, and criminals that you mean to harm without killing, but wind up executing accidentally. I've come across both." Her jaw locked tightly. "Those are places where you really need to know how to let go, Clark. If you don't, you'll be plagued for all eternity by guilt and pain, worse than that of a loved one lost. I cannot teach it, but you must learn how to release your guilt and pain, and come to terms with those losses. Do you understand?"

Frowning at the water as his mind processed everything Caitlin had said, Clark involuntarily nodded.

"Well, I'm going to get on home," Caitlin said, standing. "My family's expecting me back any time now."

Even as Caitlin lifted up into the air, Clark nodded and muttered, "See you tomorrow."

She was gone before Clark even realized it.

Out of everything Caitlin had said one major thing was pulsing in Clark's head.

_In your career as a superhero, there will be people that may die on your watch, and criminals that you mean to harm without killing, but wind up executing accidentally. I've come across both._

That meant… Caitlin had killed before. That realization shook him to the core. Caitlin O'Conner, his mentor, had taken lives before… He had no doubt that it was unintentional, but it still boggled his mind.

Wow.

And once again today, she'd shown wisdom so deep and unbelievably complete that Clark had to wonder and marvel again. It was just so remarkable to him what she'd accomplished mentally…

She was just altogether a remarkable piece of work, exceptional in every sense of the word. Over the past few months, Clark knew that a Caitlin-shaped addition was growing on his heart, one that would be converted to a hole in a little less than two months. Caitlin had already openly stated her family was leaving Smallville for good on the first of February.

Clark knew then he'd be left floundering around in the world as a superhero, without Caitlin's sure guidance… That just meant he'd have to make the most of the time he had.

X-X-X-X-X

Stirring lightly as she awoke—late because it was the weekend—with golden sunlight pouring through her bedroom window, Caitlin's memory still burned with fragments of yesterday's conversation with Clark. She knew that the speeches she'd given him weren't fully processed when she left, and that in all actuality, it would probably take Clark years to fully grasp it.

She never doubted Clark's competence; he just didn't know how to take the things she was trying to teach.

As her eyes drifted open, her bedside phone began to ring.

Her eyes darted to the clock, which read 9:12 AM. Olivia wouldn't be calling this time of the morning, then who…

With a sigh, she grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Oh, you owe me one, Caitlin," said a familiar voice. "You thought you were just so smart warning me to get out after a few hours, when you knew she wasn't going to let me go that easily…"

Caitlin felt a crazy smile light up her face. "Michele?"

"…you really owe me one. She kept me there until two o'clock this morning! Oh, she had a problem with _this_ that needed fixing, then a problem with _that_. That girl is crazy. I—"

"Michele!"

"What?" Michele asked from the other end.

"Congrats for surviving your first late-night publishing with Chloe Sullivan."

"Oh, gee, thanks."

"I hope she didn't work you too hard," Caitlin said. "I figured she might be a little rough the first time, but you get used to her and learn how to handle her after a while. Don't worry, you'll be used to Ms. Super-Editor's antics soon enough."

Michele groaned, and Caitlin could just picture her face. "Well, I'm still completely tired, so I'm going back to sleep now… hopefully Chloe stays out of my dreams."

Suppressing a chuckle, Caitlin quickly muttered, "Sleep well. See you Monday."

"Yeah, see you… bye."

Hanging up the phone, Caitlin rolled off of the bed.

She knew that she was "training" Michele to take her place in a couple of months, but she already knew that someone else would fill her place more completely than Michele ever could soon after. She'd already seen the big mark that would be placed Clark's life in the near future, and knew it wasn't her that would make it, nor Michele.

Her "vision" hadn't been deep enough to realize the maker's actual identity, though she strongly suspected it was a woman.

Caitlin had tried time and time again not to be moved by the fact that her slot in Clark's life would be filled, but it still irritated her deep down. But at least for the moment—hopefully for good—it was far enough down not to influence her.

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_**PLEASE REVIEW.**_


	16. Kansidians

**_It took me long enough to write this... Geez! I would REALLY appreciate it if you people took time to REVIEW, since I haven't gotten even ONE on the last 4 chapters..._**

**_Ok, all of the people mentioned in Caitlin's "group" here are actually real people! My friends... Except Jana and Britney. They don't exist anywhere but my head. ;)_**

**_I made a picture of all of the girls in the group too... __i16(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/b14/jedimaster891/shapingsupermandolls(dot)png .__Replace the (dot) with . And see if you can guess who's who!_

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Kansidians in Florida

"So tell me again, where are you going for winter break?" Michele asked Caitlin. "And I _will _be able to call you and all if Chloe suddenly decides to attack me again, right? I'm feeling it's fairly probable."

Suppressing a chuckle, Caitlin glanced at her across the lunchroom table. Today was the last day before Smallville High let out for winter break, and the O'Conner family left for Florida. She'd laid that news on Michele several times today, but somehow she seemed unwilling to accept it. "I'm going to be in You-lee," she said slowly, drawing out her town's pronunciation. "It's spelled Y-U-L-E-E, got it? You have my cell phone number."

At the moment, Caitlin wasn't too interested in mentioning that Chloe had told her earlier today she would be spending the entire break in Metropolis… Michele didn't need that exact detail.

"Yeah, I have the number."

"Then you should be all set for a Chloe-attack, should one occur."

Caitlin knew Clark was behind her even before he spoke up. "What's this about Chloe-attacks?" he asked as he sat down beside Caitlin.

"Michele's afraid she's going to be on the receiving end of one again while I'm gone," Caitlin explained. She easily caught the slight discomfort coming from Clark when she said "I'm gone", even though he tried to hide it. "I told her she can call me if she is."

"Chloe's going to be in Metropolis with her family," Clark told Michele before Caitlin could stop it. "Gone for all of winter break."

"Oh." Relief was amply evident in Michele's tone. "Thank goodness. I swear, she's crazy."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Caitlin joined. She hid the fact that she'd known Chloe wasn't going to be around deep down, so that it wouldn't even dare leak out. "I know from experience."

"She just gets a little worked-up sometimes," Clark defended. "She just wants to keep the Torch running well, and having good issues."

"That's all well and good, but—" Michele was cut off when a slight blonde boy walked over to their table, Michele in particular. "What do you want, Kyle?"

He gave Clark and Caitlin a friendly smile before answering. "Mom called the cell. She wanted to know if you knew where she left her day planner. She can't remember, and supposedly it's got something real important in it."

Standing, Michele rolled her eyes. "Mom can never remember anything, can she?" She gestured to the boy with bright, blue-green eyes beside her. "Clark, Caitlin, meet my brother Kyle. He's a freshman this year. And Kyle, this is Clark and Caitlin, who work on the Torch with me."

"Hi," Kyle said with a light smile.

"Hey," Caitlin returned lightly. "Nice to meet you."

"Ok, enough with introductions, give me the cell," Michele said, extending her palm to her brother. He laid it in her hand, and she strode off, calling over her shoulder to her friends. "I'll be right back."

As soon as Michele was out of earshot, Kyle began backing up. "Well, it was nice meeting you two, but I've gotta run." He was away before either Clark or Caitlin could say anything else.

"Hmm," Caitlin said, frowning. "It seems you've scared another one away with your bad breath, Clark." She gave her friend a playful wink.

"More like your face, Caitlin," Clark returned dryly, placing a forkful of the school's "mashed potatoes" in his mouth.

Caitlin chuckled lightly, looking at her own lunch. She could've sworn that everything the cafeteria ever served looked identical. Turkey, mashed potatoes, creamed corn… It was all tan-colored slop.

"So, you're staying gone all of winter break, huh?" Clark broke into her stomach-churning observations.

"Leaving tomorrow, coming back on January fourth," she affirmed. "And of course back to school the fifth."

"That's quite a while."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is… You'll be all the way in Florida for two and a half weeks."

"And?"

"And, I'll be stuck here in Kansas as always."

Sighing, Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Well, where else would ya be, farmboy?" At Clark's silence, she remarked, "You in Florida would be like a fish outta water. No, better yet, a cat _in _water. Totally out of place."

"Like you, fishy Floridian in dry Kansas?"

"_No_, that's _different_."

"It's the same," Clark stated matter-of-factly.

"Okay, fine, farmboy," Caitlin growled. "You think you could fit-in in Florida, be my guest and come on down during winter break! Better yet, you and your parents can come down to Yulee, day after Christmas if possible, and stay for however long. I promise the one real hotel we've got in town's real cheap, besides you can get away from chill Kansas winter air!"

"Done," Clark said, grinning. She'd played into the trap perfectly.

And now, she realized it. "Hey! Wait a minute, you little sneak…"

Quickly scooping up his tray, Clark was already hurrying away. "Sorry, I gotta run!" he called over his shoulder.

"Seems you've learned deviousness, farmboy!" she called after him. "Smallville, Kansas beware!"

X-X-X-X-X

Clark couldn't remember the last time he'd flown on a commercial airplane before this trip, thus proving it had been many years. He was actually surprised that he'd gotten to fly on it this time with his parents. When Clark had told them of Caitlin's offer, they'd almost immediately leapt on it.

"Well, I sure could use some Floridian sun," his father had said.

"It couldn't hurt to see where Caitlin's going back to," his mother had agreed.

So now here the Kents stood, in the Jacksonville International Airport, having just retrieved their bags. Clark's eyes easily took in the high, rounded white walls and ceilings, decoratively furnished and offset by palm trees, both real and imprinted. Everything screamed tropical paradise, save the multitudes of people hustling and pushing about.

And then she appeared, right in the middle with a large smile. "So, what does the Kent family think of Florida so far?" she said, moving towards them.

"Well, I haven't seen much of anything to answer that with," Clark said, moving towards Caitlin. "Just the inside of this airport…"

"Well, I can fix that." She looked past Clark to his parents, and gave them both a wide smile. "Mr. Johnathan, Miss Martha, if you'll come with me, Olivia's waiting outside with the car."

She took a bag from Martha, then turned and led them outside to a small, fairly new red Ford Mustang. Olivia was indeed waiting, and she popped open the trunk as soon as Caitlin brought the Kents outside.

Moments later, they were out riding smoothly along a packed boulevard between buildings that reminded Clark of Metropolis. He was mostly ignoring Caitlin's explanations of the various corporations that owned various skyscrapers. She had given up a window seat up front to allow the Kansidians—all three of which being completely new to Florida—all to have good views. She was sitting between Clark and Johnathan, Martha up front with Olivia.

"Oh, be ready for this," she said, immediately catching Clark's attention. "We're about to cross the Dames Point Bridge/Napoleon Bonaparte Broward Bridge. It's the longest cable-stayed bridge in the whole US… Very pretty at night too…"

For the past half-mile, the city had given way to forest, and now the treeline gave way to a marsh spotted with swaying palms as the Mustang hit the edge of the bridge. Then abruptly, the marsh changed into open river that stretched seemingly unending on either side. Craning his neck, Clark looked ahead…

To see the bridge stretch upward to a high peak.

"This is Jacksonville's signature structure. That river down there is the St. John's, very polluted but definitely a major part of settlement…"

The bridge itself was an amazing structure, about two miles from end to end, going up to a peak at least a hundred and fifty miles above the river's level. Stretching from the set of amazingly high supports in the bridge's center down to the roadsides were many, evenly spaced pipes.

"Wow," Clark breathed as they hit the top of the bridge and he got a great view of the surrounding river and marshes. Out in the distance to one side one could see the center of the city, filled with skyscrapers visible even from this considerable distance.

"Yeah, that's really a site," Johnathan Kent agreed.

"It's even better in the spring and summer, when it's not quite so cool out, and there's more color about," Olivia spoke up.

"Just as long as it's pretty now and warm, we'll do fine," Martha said with a smile.

Caitlin greatly returned it. "Oh, I can pretty much promise both of Yulee and Fernandina Beach."

X-X-X-X-X

"Just where are we going again?" Clark asked.

Sighing, Caitlin rolled her eyes again. This was only the millionth time she'd explained this… "Alright, it's kind of a community deal. It's a big bonfire that we started a couple years back, mainly with the people from my church, and a few of the extended families. We all had Christmas trees left over from yesterday that needed to be disposed of, and of course a multitude of food. And so we started the annual 'Night After Christmas Bonfire'. We've done it every year since. It's great fellowship, and then everybody gets rid of unwanted food before it spoils, and they can all burn their old, useless Christmas trees before they start losing needles and making a mess."

"It's a really good idea," Mr. Kent said, following behind Caitlin as she guided them towards the beginning festivities. "About how many people do you guys get?"

"Um, should be around a hundred and fifty or so, including all of the wacky little kids you'll see running about. Just a forewarning, there are a ton of them… More kids than adults." She glanced back at Clark. "Oh, and there aren't many teenagers in our little group… definitely not too many teenage guys."

He was about to voice a question when they rounded the corner of the only building in the whole three acre establishment, giving the group a full view of the already beginning festivities. The sight was very familiar to Caitlin's eyes: a forty-foot pit probably three feet deep in which already sat a flaming heap of Christmas trees, a stack of more trees off to one side, four tables loaded with all kinds of good food from half-picked hams to dishes of macaroni and cheese, an area filled with all kinds of games that was packed with children, a stage on which a small band played and Caitlin's own mother sang… In the dying twilight, everything was illuminated by the flame and a few torches. Caitlin could easily identify the majority of the people present…

"Wow," Clark said. "How in the world are we supposed to find anyone in particular?"

"Ask nicely, or follow my lead." Caitlin had already begun moving towards the food tables and the lines that followed them. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry."

"If you don't mind, I'm going to go look around," Mr. Kent said, already turning in a different direction towards a group of men standing around.

"Me too," Mrs. Kent said, also moving away.

"That leaves just you and me, Clark," Caitlin said over her shoulder as they both joined the line for the food tables. "Are you ready to meet everyone?" At his nod, she added, "Well, geez, be patient. We gotta eat first!"

Clark scoffed at her from across the table even as he put a piece of fried chicken on his plate. Most of the stuff he saw on the table was ordinary Christmas food, but some of it was a little odd, and some of it was stuff they definitely didn't eat often in Kansas. Particularly, there was a big tray of boiled shrimp.

He noted as Caitlin led them off towards a group of teenagers—a few of which Clark recognized!—that though her plate was piled very high with food, it completely lacked seafood…

His observation was drowned out by a triple feminine chorus of, "Oh, hi, Clark!"

Clark turned a smile to Olivia, Jessica and Lexi, all sitting on the table's far side. "Hi," he returned.

"Now, I've got a few introductions for you…" Caitlin began. First, she gestured to a dark-haired, freckle-faced girl sitting across from Lexi. "This is Kelsey."

Jokingly, Kelsey bobbled her head and said, "Yo, 'sup?"

"I've heard so much about you… Nice to finally meet you," Clark said.

Next in line was a blonde-haired girl with blue and green braces. "This is Sarah, my cousin."

She gave a smile. "Hey, Kansas kid."

Then a bright, blue-eyed girl also having braces named Lauren… A short punk girl with long, bright red hair and lacking a plate of food was introduced as Elysa, a short, preppy blonde as Britney and a redhead with headphones (whom Clark assumed wasn't even really listening) as Jana. Lastly were the two guys sitting at the very end of the table… The one with wild, curly blond hair and an odd resemblance to Caitlin was Josh, Sarah's brother. And the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed one was Trae, Kelsey's brother.

Carefully, Clark made a mental note of each one's name, in order around the table. _Olivia, Jessica, Lexi, Elysa, Jana, Trae, Josh, Kelsey, Sarah, Lauren, Britney…_ That was everyone. Caitlin really wasn't lying about few teenage guys.

"So, what do you think of Florida so far, Clark?" asked Jessica.

"As much as I've seen so far is great," he answered. "I love what the weather's been like so far, and the overall feel of the place is cool."

"The weather?" Elysa said. "This isn't normal weather for us…"

Caitlin picked it up. "It's been around forty here today, but the average for us is about fifty degrees during the day."

"Well, at least it's warmer than Kansas," Clark said with a smile.

"And prettier," Lexi input. "Much, much prettier."

"That's only a matter of opinion," Caitlin reminded her.

"Well, it's _my_ opinion that Kansas is _ugly_," Lexi returned.

"No offense," Olivia quickly added in Clark's direction.

"None taken," assured Clark. "It's my opinion that it's a bit prettier too. Though I have yet to actually see the beach and the ocean…"

All ten of the table's other occupants turned wide eyes to Clark, even Jana.

Britney was the first to find her voice. "You _what_?"

"Clark!" Caitlin exclaimed next. "You should've told me you'd never seen the ocean! I would've taken you and your family there first thing!"

"It's alright. Just as long as I get to see it at some point…"

"You'll probably get to see it tomorrow," Josh said from the table's end. "I'm willing to bet that you and your dad—your mom if she wants—will be invited out to the River House tomorrow."

"River House?" Clark asked, frowning.

"It's another tradition-type deal," Caitlin supplied. "On the twenty-seventh, most of the guys from this group, some kids, and a few of the women, go out to my Papa's house in Fernandina, on the Amelia River for a day of fishing. The redfish are everywhere 'round this time of year, and it's always a successful trip. My whole family always goes, and everyone's got the choice of being in a boat, fishing from the dock or the shore."

"Sounds cool," Clark said.

"It is if you like smelly fish and standing around all day in the sun, doing nothing," Britney said. "I can't see how any one can do it."

"Patience and skill," Caitlin returned. "That's how we do it. You'd be able to see that if you ever got your eyes out from behind those sunglasses."

Everyone but Britney chuckled lightly at Caitlin's remark.

"How many of you guys go?" Clark asked the group.

There were affirmatives from Caitlin, Lexi, Josh, Sarah and Olivia. Kelsey, Trae and Jessica all answered, "Sometimes." Jana, Britney, Elysa and Lauren didn't answer at all.

Clark expected Britney and Elysa not to, and he already expected nothing from Jana. But he hadn't gotten anything about Lauren yet, so he asked. "What about you, Lauren? You don't like fishing?"

Laughter erupted all around the table, except from Britney, Elysa, and Clark, who was left in the dark. Even Jana laughed.

"What?" he asked, wondering what was so funny.

"Didn't Caitlin tell you?" Jessica asked through giggles.

"Tell me what?"

Sarah answered instead of Jessica. "Oh, Lauren would never go fishing. She's a…" She just drawled off, taken by laughter.

More in the dark than ever, Clark turned to Caitlin. "What is so funny?"

Bringing herself partially under control, Caitlin answered, "Oh, I should've already told you this, but Lauren's just a city girl. She ain't like the rest of us… Wouldn't ever go fishing or anything alike." She launched into laughter again.

"Well, so am I!" Elysa reminded them.

"True, true…" Jessica said.

Clark had yet to see what was so funny about this, but he just smiled politely.

"I am too!" Britney proudly exclaimed.

"Oh, we all know that," Kelsey said. "You demonstrate it every second of every day, Mizz City-Slicker."

Drawing more laughter from the group, the blonde girl proudly lifted her head.

Clark reflected as he too lightly joined the laughter, that this was a great group of people to settle into, and that maybe he could just see Caitlin coming back to them.

X-X-X-X-X

"Clark, wake up," Johnathan Kent's voice interrupted Clark's dreaming.

"Huh?"

"I said get up."

"What time is it, Dad?"

There was a slight pause. "It's just past six."

Clark's eyes fluttered open to glare at his dad standing over the bed. "Past _six_? Why in the world do I have to get up _now_?"

"We're going out to the day of fishing with the group, remember?" Johnathan nudged his son's shoulder lightly. "Get up, or we're gonna be late."

Clark hurried about showering and getting dressed, thinking all the while about last night. Caitlin's group was all extremely nice and welcoming, albeit terribly sarcastic and prodding. They fit and clicked together so oddly…

It wasn't like other groups of friends at all, stretching all kinds of people and a big number of them too. Clark guessed from Caitlin's previous explanations that the one thing they all had in common was Christianity, something he didn't share.

First, there was Britney, preppy city-girl. Then there was Jessica, quite preppy but less so than Britney, a complete social butterfly. Lauren was the shy city-girl in the midst of a bunch of country ones. Jana was the silent, probably shy music freak. Olivia was the poetic, semi-shy one who hit somewhere between preppy and punk. Sarah and Josh were the high-brow ones of the group, often too prim-and-proper to slide perfectly in with the rest. Elysa was the most punk out of the group, though she definitely wasn't Goth, as most were. Kelsey and Trae were both surf-rats and skateboarders, and if Clark had to guess, he'd say that Kelsey was the closest to a nervous breakdown of the entire lot. She was truly and completely wacky, calling out odd, random things at the weirdest times… Lexi was pretty similar to Kelsey in that regard, though in all others she changed from moment to moment, having someone else's personality at any given second. And then, there was Caitlin. She was quite obviously the brains of the whole ordeal (though there were a few other bright minds in there somewhere), but she wasn't prim and proper like Josh and Sarah. Occasionally shy like Lauren but at others social like Jessica, poetic like Olivia, wacky at times like Kelsey, music lover like Jana, somewhat leaning towards the punk side like Elysa… Clark guessed the reason that her particular group was so large was because Caitlin—and the rest of them—could find a common ground with each of them in her multi-faceted personality.

Yes, Clark could definitely see her falling back in with this group seamlessly in about a month, since four and a half months obviously hadn't dented her spirits about them.

Somehow, the thought helped ease the anxiety he was feeling about Caitlin's departure from Smallville.

X-X-X-X-X

"I can't remember the last time I went fishing," Clark said as he climbed into the boat, almost losing his balance as it rocked. "It's probably been at least five years… Me and my dad used to go all the time at our neighbors' pond when I was younger…"

"I had a childhood shaped by fishing expeditions too," Caitlin said as she motioned a few relatives over towards the boat, tethered to the wooden dock. Her family had built this very dock a few years ago after a storm had taken the original, and this aging motor boat had been around for several years prior. "I reckon the only reason I learned to swim was because I fell in my granny's pond when I was real little."

At that, Clark chuckled.

Josh, Sarah and Lexi came walking up the dock beside Caitlin. Only O'Conners and Kents were here as of yet (the adults of both and the youngest of the former all inside the house that overlooked the river) but she didn't doubt more people would begin showing up soon.

"You guys take the other boat and follow us out to the edge of Cumberland," she told them. "We can go check out what it looks like up that-a-ways."

Josh nodded and climbed into the driver's seat of the boat, taking protests from Sarah and Lexi. Caitlin paid them no attention as she untied her boat's restraints, kicking off from the dock. Slowly it drifted away from the dock and towards the river, and Caitlin cranked it.

Gently, she eased the gas forward and the boat crept along.

"You're fifteen and allowed to drive this boat all by yourself?" Clark asked over the engine's roar.

"I've been driving it since I was about ten, by myself since I was twelve." She swung it out into the main river's flow, angling northwest. She glanced behind and confirmed that Josh was bringing the second boat—considerably newer than the first—out behind. "And you're gonna want to hold on, and probably get off of the side and into the floor."

"Wh—"

Clark didn't even get to finish the question as Caitlin pushed the accelerator and the boat slowly accelerated. Slowly the front began to lift up as Caitlin watched the speedometer climb up to fifty miles per hour. She saw the wake coming, but didn't slow, and hit it at full force. The boat leapt, then smashed back down into the river's surface with a great splash.

Clark was soaked.

Laughing loud enough for him to hear over the roaring engine, Caitlin gave him a slight unobvious telekinetic shove. He took the hint and slid down to the floor in the front of the boat.

Twenty minutes later, they'd reached the place where the great St. Mary's and Amelia Rivers met, as well as the tiny Bell River. Caitlin eased back as they rounded the last corner and the combination of rivers opened into the ocean between Cumberland Island's south end and Amelia Island's north.

"Wow," Clark breathed as the ocean opened, vast and endless in front of them.

Caitlin completely cut the engine, and watched Josh guide the other boat up beside them. "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

Blue-green waves were tinted by the bright, early morning sun just risen across the horizon. Off to their left sat the calm, bare shores of Cumberland Island, on which wild horses roamed as well as wild dreams. To their right lay the forested northern shore of Amelia Island, specifically Fort Clinch State Park.

Even though she'd grown up on the site, Caitlin's eyes never grew tired of it.

"More than beautiful," Clark murmured. "It's amazing."

"That it is."

Just then, something hit the side of the boat, causing it to rock and almost flinging Clark out. Caitlin quickly stopped the swaying, her eyes darting to the water.

Josh's boat was at least twenty feet away, not moving.

"What was _that_?" Clark exclaimed even as Caitlin's eyes spotted the culprit.

"Shark," Caitlin answered, flinging a finger out towards a gray shape moving beneath the water's surface. "Josh, watch it," she called to her cousin. "We've got a big shark off the bow. See it? Lexi, Sarah, look."

Everyone's eyes followed Caitlin's finger as she traced the path of the fair-sized shark swimming in front of the boat. After a moment of simply swimming around, it darted off into the sea.

"That was odd," Caitlin said, cranking the boat again. "I've never seen a shark do that before." She glanced up at Clark even as she swung the boat into a 180-degree turn. "He must've been showing off just for you."

Clark smiled.

Her eyes spotting something ahead of them down the river's throat, she gestured. "Look, Clark. It looks like the stingrays want their shot too."

He looked forward to see stingrays jumping out of the water all over for brief stretches, flopping back down into the river with mild splashes. This too was something Caitlin had often seen.

"What are they doing?"

"They look like they're trying to fly," Caitlin answered sarcastically, pushing forward on the accelerator.

"Ok, _why_ do they do that?"

"I have no idea. Look it up."

Clark scowled, then made sure he was sitting in a good position as Caitlin took the speed up again. "You know, you'll have to show my parents this later on."

Caitlin nodded. "Sure. Everyone's eyes deserve to see this beauty at some time or another."

X-X-X-X-X

The Kents stayed in Yulee for four days, going back to Smallville on December thirtieth with sand in their shoes and a new favorite vacation spot.

On the twenty-seventh, which was a Saturday, almost the entire day was spent fishing and cruising down the Amelia River, seeing what sights it had to offer. Caitlin did take Johnathan and Martha to the Cumberland/Amelia shores, showing them the wide expanse of open sea and some wild horses that ran on Cumberland. Both thought it was spectacular, just as the leaping stingrays were. Clark told them both about the shark, at which they were alarmed, but after Caitlin's reassurance and the fact that they didn't see one, they were alright.

On the twenty-eighth, the Kents were left until noon to find their way around alone, as the O'Conner family was in church. Mostly, it was simply spent on the beach. After the O'Conners got out of church, they met the Kents at the "best seafood restaurant" around.

Caitlin took the Kansidians all around Amelia Island on a historic tour, then on a tour of the Island's more modern attractions all day on the twenty-ninth, totally exhausting Clark's ability to remember dates and such. He was completely confused even halfway through.

And then the next morning, the Kents were up and back to Kansas.


	17. Perfect

******_Well, sorry this took so long, guys... I was having computer trouble for a while there._**

**_Welcome to my reviewing list, teh Kae, Mixer, mir21, sealkid3, and THANK YOU for leaving reviews!_**

**_teh Kae and Mixer: Yes, at the beginning, Caitlin does seem rather Mary-Sue-ish, but as the story progresses, so do her faults. In fact, she's about to tell you guys all about that herself in the form of a conversation with Clark..._**

**_sealkid3: Yes, like all good things, it must come to an end. This is chapter 17, so there will be three more, and then (drumroll) a short sequel! Muahaa... :)_**

**_Whoa, I almost forgot... I now have "cover art" for this story! The link's on my profile, but here it is too (replace (dot) with .): __http/i16(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/b14/jedimaster891/shapingsuperman__(dot)png_**

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_This one's dedicated to anyone who ever thought Caitlin was perfect... ;)_

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**Not so Perfect**

Wide, flat Kansas fields spread out all around, most purely barren dirt during this chill of mid-winter. Where crops still remained, they were dead wisps of already gone cornstalks or wheat shivering lightly in the wind. A thin coverlet of snow covered everything in site, grounds, roofs, anything.

Not at all like the warm Florida climate Caitlin become re-accustomed to over the past couple of weeks.

She was regretting the Kansas weather so deeply right now and seeped so deep in her own thoughts that she almost didn't notice Michele come to sit beside her.

"Does the landscape seem that interesting?"

Now aware both telepathically and physically of her protégé, Caitlin half-turned, careful not to lose her balance teetering on the edge of the old building. "No, its lack of interest is what captivates me."

"Have a lot on your mind?" Michele asked, sitting beside her, and watching the still landscape below.

"More than I need in there."

A semi-comfortable silence hung between the two teenage girls for a minute, both of them staring out across the level fields visible for several miles. Michele broke it. "Mind telling me what it is?"

Resuming the silence for a few moments while she thought, Caitlin glanced away at the distant fringes of Crater Lake's reflective surface. Really, it couldn't hurt anything to let her new-found friend in on her thoughts, could it?

"Sure," she said finally, sighing. "Well, you know that I'm going back to Florida permanently soon, right?" At the other blonde girl's nod, she continued. "I'm just feeling like the gap that I'm leaving here will be hard on Clark, and I really don't want to hurt him. I'm more scared of hurting him than I am of actually leaving everything I've gotten attached to in these six months."

Michele nodded. "He _is_ really attached to you."

Throwing an incredulous look at her, Caitlin laughed eccentrically. "Oh, that's an _understatement_. He's not attached, he's _mesmerized_. Clark Kent _idolizes_ me."

Even as Michele's eyebrows rose in extreme surprise, Caitlin explained. "Oh, I know he is. It's way too obvious for me not to realize it. But just because I realize it doesn't mean I condone it, Michele. I want him to stop as much as farmers want to stop a drought. He thinks me faultless—crazy, misguided fool that he is—and I know I'm anything but."

"You should tell him that," Michele advised. "And soon, so he has time to get over it before you leave."

"Oh, I wish I could," Caitlin replied, sighing. "But I can't seem to find a way."

"Try holding all sarcasm and being flat-out honest."

"That's just crazy enough to work." Caitlin gave Michele a bright smile even as she stood, inspiration already racing. "Maybe, Miss Advice, you have some hope of filling my shoes after all."

"Oh, I don't know." Jokingly, Michele glanced at Caitlin's feet. "You've got some pretty big feet… I'm only about a six and a half."

Caitlin chuckled. "Yes, there's definitely hope."

X-X-X-X-X

"Clark! I need to talk to you!" the familiar feminine voice yelled at him.

Turning from where he was shoveling the light snow out of his house's walkway, Clark saw Caitlin flying in his direction, wrapped in an over-sized warm coat. He knew that she'd probably adjusted her internal thermometer to Florida's weather during the break, and now it was having serious trouble realigning itself with Kansas.

Clark leaned his shovel against the porch and walked her way. "A little cold, Florida?" he joked.

"I'm fine, thanks, Kansas," she retorted as she landed beside him. "A step into a normal summer where I'm from and you'd melt like candle wax."

"Uh-huh." Clark swept his arm back toward the door. "Would you like to come inside? Mom can probably make some nice hot coffee real quick…"

"No, thanks," she replied as she shoved her hands in her pockets. "I hate coffee, period. My mama makes hot cocoa for us all the time instead. And besides, this is some… very personal chit-chat that I'd rather keep private."

Clark tried to keep his eyebrows from shooting off of his head, and had mild success. They only rose slightly. His mind had already darted forward to what she might mean… "Well, let's go to the barn then, and get out of this wind."

His mind raced the entire way up to the loft, though he tried to still it, fearing Caitlin might read his thoughts either accidentally or purposely.

Once inside the barn and up in Clark's loft, Caitlin began becoming noticeably nervous, pacing lightly as Clark comfortably sat down on the couch.

Trying to break her tension, Clark casually asked, "So, what's up, Caitlin?"

As Caitlin visibly braced herself, Clark now feared the worst.

She stopped her pacing, waiting at the loft doors/windows with her back to Clark as she began. "It's about your behavior at certain times, Clark. Something I think that I really shouldn't let sit anymore, but set straight. In short, I've got a bone to pick."

Frowning at her very ambiguous statement, Clark leaned forward. "What'd I do?"

"You… Don't deny it, you idolize me," she whispered, something that sounded like pain seeping into her tone.

The words took a minute to settle in, and as asked, Clark didn't waste time with denials in himself or at Caitlin. "What's wrong with that?"

Caitlin shook her head and turned to face him, an innocent, serious look spread across her face. "I'm not worth idolizing. Really."

"Why not?" he demanded. "What makes you unworthy?"

"Don't you deny this either, you think I'm perfect." She cut off Clark's retort before it even formed. "Yes, I know what you're going to say. 'Nobody's perfect, Caitlin. I know.' You might know it, but you're not seeing it. I'm far from perfect, and I don't want you thinking I am. I don't want to be idolized like that."

Clark couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he'd already unconsciously stood. "What makes you so far from perfect?"

Caitlin seemed to get a kick out of that one, since she laughed like Clark was crazy. "Oh, farmboy! You _cannot_ be that naïve! Only one perfect man ever walked the face of the earth, and I cannot even compare myself with Him! Look at me! I'm a loud, sarcastic, overly perceptive perfectionist! And that doesn't even scratch the top!"

"Caitlin—" Clark started to protest.

"Clark!" she cut him off, whirling around with a crazed look on her face. "How could you ever think that I'm perfect? What in the world do you see in me that might even make you wonder if I am?"

Clark felt his own tone rising. "What's with you all of a sudden? Out of nowhere, you start being your own bashing club, putting down any and everything you've done. What are you doing? What triggered this!"

"This isn't all of a sudden. It's been building and building especially since Lex's party, and quite frankly, it's annoying and I want to set it straight. I'm a weird psyche-analyst too when I want to be. I can see my faults as bright as broad daylight, and I want you to see them." Caitlin's excitement seemed to die down to an explanatory discomfort. "Don't aspire to be me, Clark. Your destiny is so much larger than mine." Her eyes closed and she took a pained breath. "It hurts me to say it, but you'll become more than I ever will be."

Unable to guess just how that could happen, Clark frowned at her. She was exactly what Clark wanted to be as far as a superhero went, but now she was saying that he'd be more?

"You've been sent to Earth from a dying world far away, and don't have some of the restraints that we do," Caitlin explained. "I am strong-willed, Clark, but given enough pressure, that will break. You, however, are strong without having to be strong-willed."

Clark nodded in understanding, his mind rewinding back to something she'd said a minute ago. "You said destiny," he stated. "I don't like destiny at all. It's just another way to say you have no choice."

"No, it's not," Caitlin refused. "You _always_ have a choice. Even though they can bribe you, no one can ever force you."

"Don't you believe in an all-powerful God?" Clark asked. "Couldn't he force you?"

"He could, but He doesn't. God gave us individual minds to choose Him, and choose His destiny for us, or to deny it. Christians are those that follow the destiny, others are those that reject." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But the Good Lord's destiny for us isn't the one you hate."

"No," Clark agreed. "It's my father's. Jor-El has a destiny that I don't want to follow."

Caitlin nodded.

Clark had told her many months ago about his actual heritage, and how he was an alien from a planet far away. She'd been very curious, and had asked a whole ton of questions, most of which Clark couldn't answer. And then he'd told her that the spirit of his biological father lingered in the Indian caves, and she said that she'd like to talk with him. Clark had been quick to explain that Jor-El was someone they did not willingly speak with.

"If it's not a destiny that you want to follow, it's probably one that you aren't going to," Caitlin said. "But how did this conversation move to being about destiny?"

Clark smiled. "Well, if it bothers you so much, then I'll steer it back." His smile vanished without a trace. "But really, Caitlin, you do appear to be perfect most of the time."

At this, Caitlin actually smiled, though it was a weak smile. "I know I do. I'm not faultless and I know it, but I think that sometimes, I still unconsciously try to be. Maybe that in itself is my greatest mistake of all." She shook her head. "Ironic: that the seemingly faultless has the most faults of all." Glancing at her watch, she suddenly changed subjects and moods. "I've gotta go. Really, I've got to run."

Before Clark could say anything, she opened the loft doors, and leapt right out into the open, cold air, immediately taking flight. She was away in the direction of her home in seconds, a mere dot on the background of the gray skies.

"Clark Kent, you get down here and finish clearing this walkway!" his dad shouted from the house's half snow-covered front porch.

"Yes, sir!" replied Clark, closing the loft doors and hurrying back to work.

Caitlin had firmly established that she had faults today, but the fact that she knew she wasn't perfect only made her a better idol for Clark Kent.

X-X-X-X-X

"I'm assuming by your beaming face that you got things straight with Clark?" a familiar voice asked as Caitlin opened the door to her apartment.

She threw a look up the stairs to the blonde sitting at the top, a notebook in hand. "Michele? What are you doing here?"

As Caitlin continued up the stairs, Michele stood.

"I had some questions for you—which I was going to ask you on that roof earlier before you dashed off to talk to Clark—and I figured I'd catch you at home," Michele explained. "I went up to the main house—thanks for letting me know you don't live there, by the way!—and your mom told me you lived out here. She opened it up, and here I sit."

"How long have you been waiting?" Caitlin asked, topping the stairs.

"Only about fifteen minutes."

"You could've sat in the living room. Chairs are much more comfortable than stairs."

"Didn't want to intrude," Michele said, though Caitlin could tell the thought really hadn't occurred to her by the way she eyed the couple of comfortable-looking chairs in the small common room.

"By sitting in the living room after you entered my apartment all alone, without me knowing?" Caitlin joked, smiling brightly. She didn't give room for any reply, as she moved towards the kitchenette. "Go ahead and sit. Hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please," Michele replied, sinking into a chair. "So, like I asked before, did you get everything straightened out with Clark?"

Pouring milk into a pair of mugs, Caitlin glanced across the counter that separated the kitchenette and the living room at Michele. "Yes, actually. I settled it really well with him... after a bit of argument." She turned and placed both in the microwave and set it.

"What did you say?"

"A lot of things. Most notably: I'm not perfect, and I know it. Sometimes, I think I still subconsciously try to be faultless. Maybe that in itself is my greatest fault of all."

A moment of silence followed as Michele digested Caitlin's words, and ironically, the microwave opted to be the one to pierce the silence with its _beeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp_.

Michele followed it. "That's a pretty deep self-analysis."

"Yeah, I have psychiatrist-y tendencies sometimes," Caitlin said, pulling the two mugs of now-warm milk from the microwave and dumping hot chocolate mix into them. "Especially when it comes to myself."

"Interesting," Michele said, mimicking a psychiatric consultant's flat tone. "And just how does this make you feel?"

Caitlin was already walking out of the kitchen and towards the "psychiatrist", a mug held in each hand. "Well, to tell you the truth, Doc, it makes me feel like drinking." Depositing one of them in Michele's hand, Caitlin gave a sly wink.

Michele laughed as she accepted the mug of hot brown milk.

"So," Caitlin said after a sip, "what did you need to ask me?"

"Oh, right," Michele said, obviously remembering. She set down her mug on the coffee table, and a notebook replaced it in her hands. "I'm writing a couple of stories for the Torch—actually, I'm going to send the second one to the Daily Planet's Junior Journalists section—and I need to ask you some questions."

"Alrighty, go ahead and shoot."

"So, were you top of your class back home?" she asked, pencil poised.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Caitlin said as realization struck. "I didn't go to public school back home. I was homeschooled…"

"Ah. Did that help you get ahead?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" Michele asked. "Hm. That won't look great in writing."

"Quote me as, 'Yes, homeschooling helped an ocean's worth', then."

"That ought to work. I guess that means you didn't have any extra-curriculars there that you don't here, then, huh?"

"I had no real ECs at all."

"Ok… Actually, that's all I needed for the first story."

Caitlin frowned over her warm mug. "That's all? I hope the second one's that easy."

Flipping a page in her notebook, Michele gave Caitlin a look that made her immediately wary. "Actually, it's not."

Something in the telepathic readings she was getting from Michele made Caitlin alert, and extremely nervous. Unconsciously, she sat down her mug and stared at Michele. Then, self-consciously, she thrust her awareness over Michele's thoughts and looked for whatever might be stirring this up…

The recurrent theme Caitlin caught after a mere second was enough to make her very anxious. She had questions about Psyche-Out, Caitlin's superhero identity.

"What is it about?" she said aloud, covering her surprise.

"It's about that 'superhero' from your hometown… Psyche-Out, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I heard about him," Caitlin said. "Why are you interested?"

"I think he might be from Smallville," Michele replied. "I mean, he's got superpowers like a lot of the freaks that come out of here, and someone like him was spotted in Metropolis a few weeks ago… Don't you think it's possible? I'm just looking for more info about him, like maybe an eye witness or something." She paused. "Oh, ok. So, did you ever wonder who this 'Psyche-Out' is?"

A question that had been bumping around in Caitlin's mind since learning Michele would be her protégé was quickly resolved. And, despite Michele's totally serious look, Caitlin smiled. "Oh, no, I never had to wonder."

Michele's eyebrows jumped. "Really? You mean you know who it is?"

"Oh, yes. I've always known who it is."

She flicked her hands. "Continue!"

"Well, Psyche-Out is really…"

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**_Cliff-hanger! Reviews away!_**


	18. Worship

**_Alright guys, I really rushed this chapter to get it out before I ran off to the bluegrass festival this weekend, so it might seem a little off-balance... But anyway, here it is, enjoy and definitely leave reviews..._**

**_cinafran: Sorry for that, but all stories need them! And apologies for the ending of this chapter in advance!_**

**_sealkid3: Yes, all good stories need cliffies!_**

**_Livs: You talk to much. ;)_**

**_Clark may be a bit OOC in this chapter, but like I said, it was rushed... And he's about to really mess things up..._**

**_This chapter's dedicated to all of the guys out there that are just plain rude. You'll get what's coming to you._

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**Romance Part Two**

"Cait, are you going to the winter dance?" Michele asked across her Torch desk. "I really need a ride."

"Don't look to me for a ride," Caitlin said, glancing up from her piles of papers. "I'm probably not going, and even if I do, I can't give you a ride." She stuck out her empty hand as though presenting identification. "Sorry, officer, my driver's license is invisible."

"Oh, yeah," realized Michele. "I forget that you're too young for your license…"

"Well then put a sticky note on your head," Caitlin said with a smile. "Besides, isn't Kyle going too? Couldn't you drive the both of you and any dates you might be taking?"

"My mom's not too fond of me taking the car."

"Ah. Any particular reason?"

"Um, there was an incident with the grill of my mom's car and a tree a while back… I just happened to be sitting behind the wheel."

"Oh. I take it that the tree just jumped out in the middle of the road in front of you?"

"Something like that."

"I see."

"Well, I remember you telling me that you had a car."

"Yes…"

"Well, I can drive it, and you can ride," Michele said. "I guess Kyle could ride too, and we weren't really planning on taking dates."

"Um, Michele?"

"Yes?"

"There's a flaw in the slaw," Caitlin said, mimicking Sheriff Rosco from the Dukes of Hazzard, one of her favorite TV shows. "Um… Firstly, you haven't seen my truck. Chances are it won't be to your liking either… Especially dressed in nice clothes like you're going to wear to the dance."

Michele raised an eyebrow. "What's so wrong about it?"

"Um, it's an old red, rusting pickup truck. Loud engine, torn seats, very dirty tires and under-carriage from mud-bogging…"

"Oh. Well, that won't work. And I don't think you're going to fly me and yourself out there wearing a nice dress either." It'd been just over a week since Caitlin told Michele the full truth about herself, making the number of people who knew jump to nine. Michele had taken the news surprisingly well, definitely easier than Clark had.

The number of people that knew had actually almost doubled since Caitlin had come to Smallville, she mused. Before, there had been five, and only five. Then she'd come, met Clark Kent, and it went to six. Clark had told his mother before Caitlin had OKed it. Seven. And of course with Miss Martha Kent knowing, she'd felt it best that Mr. Johnathan know as well. Eight. Lex Luthor would've been nine, but she retracted that knowledge from him.

And so lastly, Michele made nine.

Trapped for a minute in her musings, Caitlin thought back over the current conversation and caught something she'd missed.

"Wait a doggone minute!" Caitlin said suddenly, taking her attention from her desk and looking up at Michele. "Where along this line was I suddenly convinced that I'm going?"

"You have no choice."

"Oh, I think I do."

Michele knew she had Caitlin caught already, and Caitlin knew it too. "Well, then. What's your choice?"

"Ok, fine. I'll go."

Michele gave her a very satisfied, smug smile before returning back to her work.

Caitlin mock-glared at her, then cried out, "Ok, I'm going, but that doesn't mean I'm going to wear a dress."

And Michele just kept on smiling.

X-X-x-X-X

Caitlin stepped out of the backseat of the car and onto the sidewalk by the school gym carefully, making sure that she didn't scuff her mother's nice shoes that she'd borrowed. She generally despised people that walked a certain way just to prevent damage to their shoes, but these were her mom's. She was also careful not to step on the edge of her wide-legged dress pants.

"Oh, great," she muttered under her breath.

"Oh, great what?" asked Michele beside Caitlin as she stepped out of the front door.

"Nothing," Caitlin said, moving out of the door and further up the sidewalk so Michele's brother Kyle could step out. "It was nothing."

Kyle brushed past Caitlin and then Michele, heading towards the gym.

Caitlin dipped her head back in the door to talk to the driver. "Thanks for driving us, Bubby. Pick us up around ten, please. Love ya."

Aaron—affectionately called "Bubby" by his siblings—nodded and smiled. "Will do. Love you, Sis."

Returning the smile, Caitlin closed the car door and let her brother drive away down the road towards home. "Well, let's get in there and get this over with," she said after a moment to Michele. She started somewhat sulkily onward towards the gym.

"Oh, come on, Caitlin!" Michele said cheerfully, grabbing Caitlin's arm to pull her onward. "This will be fun!"

"I wish, 'Chele. I think something's going to go wrong here."

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic!"

"Pessimism has nothing to do with it." Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "Being telepathic has everything to do with it."

Michele's joyful stride didn't break, though for the briefest of seconds, her smile did. Caitlin had told her of the so-often correct premonitions that her telepathy brought, and of the fact that often she was warned of horrible atrocities.

And now, Caitlin had that faint little whisper of a premonition that something would go wrong tonight. And in her long, struggling experience with these things, she'd learned that sometimes, the faintest whispers meant the biggest troubles of all.

X-X-X-X-X

Caitlin's unease had developed extremely quickly, as if the premonition had just popped up as they stepped from the car. She was slowly moving, growing more and more uneasy as they drew closer to the open doors across which a banner was posted, saying, "Smallville High's Annual Winter Dance".

Michele could see her unease, and she could feel it.

And despite her cheerful attempts to sweep it away, it stayed right where it was.

The instant they stepped through the doors and into the decorated gym filled with dressed-up teens, Caitlin's visible anxiety utterly vanished. It was as though God Himself had removed it, and Michele suspected that the Heavenly Father did indeed have something to do with this.

Or maybe it was just Caitlin throwing herself underneath a tarp of emotional control.

Most likely, it was both.

"Caitlin! Michele!" someone called as the two girls walked into the dance.

Immediately Michele's head snapped towards the owner of the voice.

Chloe was winding her way through a group of people towards them, holding a cup of punch. Michele wasn't afraid of Chloe attacks anymore: she'd learned how to deal with them rather well lately. And now she definitely wasn't, as Chloe didn't seem to be in the mood.

"Hey, Chlo," she replied as her duo with Caitlin became a trio.

"Hey," Caitlin added. "Hey, did Clark decide to come? Last I spoke with him, he wasn't sure."

"Yes, he did." Chloe's eyes scanned the crowd around them. "I saw him just a few minutes ago, then he moved off to talk to Lana." She rolled her eyes. "So, what else is new?"

"Apparently, Clark's elsewhere," Caitlin commented, looking over Chloe's shoulder.

Michele too looked in that direction to see Lana gliding towards them, looking as ever the Oriental beauty that she was.

"Hi, Lana," came the triple chorus as the trio became a foursome.

"Hello everybody."

"Caitlin was wondering where Clark is," Chloe spoke up.

"He wandered off from me about five or so minutes ago." Lana glanced around as Chloe had, and was similarly unable to locate Clark in the crowd. "And I haven't seen him since."

"Who needs him anyway?" Caitlin chimed.

All of the girls laughed lightly.

"So, are you trying for some kind of little 'blend away into the snow' thing here Caitlin?" Chloe asked, sipping at her punch.

Michele turned her glance at Caitlin as she looked down to her clothes. They were simple: wide-legged gray slacks and a white button-down shirt with sequins around the cuffs.

"What about them?" Caitlin asked, raising a brow.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, most people are going for colorful stuff," Chloe answered, with a sweeping gesture. "You're kind of out of the loop, it seems."

Michele took a glance first at Caitlin's slightly drab wardrobe, then at the others standing around in the circle. Chloe's ensemble was red and trendy, Lana's was lavender and gorgeous and Michele's own was light pink. It did seem Caitlin was "out of the loop" as Chloe put it.

"Being out of the loop is the best place to be," Caitlin insisted. "That way you're sure to be completely unique. Besides, I don't really care if people think I'm not dressed 'up-to-date'. Really, what do appearances matter?"

"Nothing, if you really had to admit it," Michele said. "But that doesn't stop girls from obsessing, does it?"

"No, unfortunately, it doesn't," Caitlin said quietly, and Michele noticed that she now seemed a bit distracted.

X-X-X-X-X

Clark was weaving his way through the crowd towards the quartet of girls that were probably his closest friends, his newly scrounged courage aiding him and pushing him onward.

He had to admit that they looked quite odd the way they were standing together right now: three blondes and of course raven-haired Lana.

He walked in behind Lana and Chloe, and he knew that Caitlin caught sight of him almost immediately. After Caitlin did, Michele immediately looked up too.

"Hello there, Clark. We were looking all over for you," Caitlin said.

"Aw, did you miss me?" he said.

"No, we were just wondering where we should start looking for the next disaster," Caitlin retorted sarcastically. "Where were you?"

"Nowhere," Clark said reflexively. He knew immediately that he'd made a mistake, and tried to cover over it and get on with what he was doing quickly. "Caitlin, would you like to dance?" Seeing the wide-eyed stares the other girls gave him, he quickly explained. "Just as friends I mean."

"Sure, Clark," Caitlin said, the tiniest bit of skepticism in her voice.

He stepped past Lana, Chloe and Michele, offering his arm to her like a gentleman. As he half-suspected, she didn't take it, but just walked at his side. Before they stepped out to the dance floor, an upbeat rock song was playing, but as they turned towards each other, suddenly it became a slow, romantic one.

One of Caitlin's eyebrows arched at the odd twist of fate, and Clark tried not to let his joy show.

Caitlin took a very proper dancing pose, a hand gently sat on Clark's shoulder, the other grasping his free hand out wide. Clark never would've guessed this high-society behavior of Caitlin, but he was glad for it as he laid his hand on her back just below the shoulder blades.

"I'll lead, you try and follow," she whispered, starting to sway along to the music.

Clark moved like a klutz trying to keep up, just barely missing her foot not even twenty seconds through the song.

"Loosen up, Clark. You're too tight in your movements."

To relax him, Caitlin began moving faster and wider to the music, and Clark noted with delight that she was a graceful mover. In the presence of her adeptness, he seemed to lose a bit of his clumsy style.

"Much better," Caitlin assured him.

Suddenly, Clark's mouth felt dry. He looked away from Caitlin's face as he pulled up the courage… "Um, Caitlin?"

"Yes, Clark?"

"Well, I know your aversion to romantic relationships, but…"

"Don't—" Caitlin started, already letting go.

Clark clung tightly, not allowing her to flee. "No, Caitlin. You're too close-minded. Come on… You could take a lot from a romance, and I can be the one for you."

"No," Caitlin stated flatly, now struggling to get away. "Clark, I told you that I'm not going to get into romance, and you're going to respect that whether you want to or not!"

Clark still wasn't letting go—how could he?—and now the pair was attracting some attention. "But Caitlin, I—"

"I don't want to hear it!" Caitlin snarled viciously, throwing all her weight to get away.

He didn't even attempt to get out the last two words as he leaned towards Caitlin, bent on proving it to her one way or another…

And she reached out her hand and slapped Clark hard across the side of the face, apparently throwing telekinetic force behind it to send him—as strong as he was—reeling. He felt the sting hard and ice-cold clear across his face as he stepped back with the sheer power of her strike.

By the time he opened his eyes up to look at Caitlin, she was running out of the gym doors, leaving a ring of astonished and shocked bystanders standing around Clark.

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_**Oh, shoot, would you lookie here! Another CLIFFIE! AH!**_


	19. Reconciliation

**_OMG, I am so very, very sorry that this took so long guys! First, life conspired against me, and then FanFiction wouldn't let me log in... rolls eyes_**

**_Mirchiri: Finally, you leave a review. :D And yes, I did have to twist Clark a bit, but everything will work out, doncha worry._**

**_Sealkid3: Thanks... It was extremely rushed._**

**_K, couple of things about this chapter... It's the next-to-the last! AH! One more chapter... Anyway, on to the chapter... It's long overdue for some reconciliations..._

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**Parting Shot**

Two and a half weeks. That's how long it had been since Clark had seen Caitlin. It had been two and a half long, agonizing weeks of painful retrospect and complete self-criticism since the winter semi-formal dance and Clark's stupid, stupid move. Two and a half weeks since he'd ruined his friendship with Caitlin by trying to force it to be more.

Two and a half weeks that seemed like a lifetime.

Clark had missed Caitlin at school for the first week, somehow. He knew that she was there: doing her constant best in all classes, working on the Torch as she had been for these past six months, but somehow, someway, he never even caught a glimpse of her. He strongly suspected that it was flat-out avoidance on Caitlin's part, and probably a bit of telepathic enhancement.

She wasn't present in the couple of classes that they shared at all.

Then after the first week, Clark noticed that Caitlin's Torch desk was clear and that they didn't even call her name off of the roll anymore.

When he asked Chloe anything about Caitlin, she didn't respond. Michele was scarcely seen, and even when she was, she wouldn't talk to Clark at all. But when he asked the teachers, they said that her family had already called ahead and removed her from Smallville High altogether.

And that had Clark worried.

Did that mean they'd already moved? No, it should still be another week or so before they left—the beginning of February, not the end of January. But had they decided to up and move already?

And this fear was what finally inspired Clark to go out to the O'Conner home. He stood at the edge of the driveway, staring across the front yard at the house that stood like an overbearingly hostile taunt, telling him to go no further. But his need to reconcile with Caitlin pushed him onward.

He noticed as he forcibly walked down the driveway that Caitlin's older brother Aaron's house—situated a few hundred feet to the left of the main home—was seemingly empty, with no lights on and no cars parked out front as Clark had seen previously.

_Odd_, he thought.

But to his relief, Caitlin's truck and her family's other assortment of busted up old cars still sat around the main house off to the side. After what seemed like an eternity of assorted cobblestone walkway in the midst of lightly snow-covered grass, Clark reached the full wrap-around porch. The front door seemed as forbidding now as the rest of the house had a moment ago, but he found the courage to ring the doorbell.

The first set of rings was audible through the front door, and went obviously unnoticed. Clark pushed the button again, and the door swung open midway through the second ring.

Standing there was Caitlin's youngest brother Daniel, face marked by an angry scowl underneath a mop of light brown hair. "Go away, doofus," he growled. And then he slammed the door right in Clark's face.

Jaw hanging open, Clark didn't even have a chance to defend himself. Shaking away shock, he rang the bell again, hoping for someone other than Daniel.

Again, the door swung open, but this time it wasn't Daniel as Clark expected, nor Caitlin as he hoped. It was Caitlin's next youngest brother, Kendall. As Daniel had, Kendall seemed disgusted and the bridge of his freckle-covered nose pinched up and dark eyebrows knit closely together. "Beat it, creep," he whispered in an openly hostile voice as he slammed the door in Clark's face as Daniel had.

Again, Clark pushed the bell.

Next to appear was Caitlin's sister Lexi, a deeply angered scowl marking her face. "Get out of here now, jerk," she bit out. "I thought my brothers made it clear: we don't take kindly to scum like you on our property. Get out before we call the sheriff on you for trespassing."

This time before the door slammed shut in his face, Clark reached out a hand and stopped it. "Wait, I'm here to apologize!" he called inside.

Despite the force he was putting on the door, it did swing shut again after only a moment's struggle. With a sigh, Clark turned to leave.

But he was halted halfway down the steps by the sound of the door lightly opening again, and a gentle voice speaking his name in almost a whisper. "Clark."

He turned, half-expecting to see Mrs. O'Conner there, glowering angrily. Instead, he saw Caitlin, her face the epitome of sorrow and pain, eyes speaking volumes more than words could ever describe. He noticed with only minimal interest that she was wearing a hugely baggy t-shirt, stained with a number of unidentifiable things and loose sweat pants: the garb of someone either grieving, or just deeply depressed.

"Why are you here?" she asked quietly.

"To apologize," Clark answered quickly, afraid that strong Caitlin being as weak as she currently was, would turn and run at any given moment.

"Sincerely?"

"Sincerely," he confirmed. "Caitlin, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to force you, I—I just… I guess I have to plead momentary insanity."

Caitlin shook her head sadly. "It was more than momentary insanity, and you know it. That's been boiling around inside of you for some time, Clark."

"Yes, it was," he said sadly. "I'm so sorry that it was… It shouldn't have been. I should have stopped after the first time."

Lightly, she nodded. "You should have." She sighed. "And you see that now. I'm glad you do, because I'm ready to forgive and forget. That is if you are."

"There's nothing for me to forgive you for," Clark insisted. "I deserved everything you gave me."

"No, you didn't deserve these two and a half weeks of the cold shoulder from me and everyone." Caitlin threw a glance over her shoulder inside the house. "Especially not that nasty bit from my siblings." She back-stepped inside, beckoning Clark inside.

"Yeah, what was that?" he asked, remounting the stairs to the porch, then through the door.

"Sibling loyalty," she answered over her shoulder, her depressed manner nearly vanishing. "I wouldn't expect an only child to understand. You offend one of us, you incur the wrath of all. That's the first rule of O'Conner brother or sisterhood." She smiled over her shoulder, walking towards the kitchen. "Ask any of the sibs what happened when Karen Jennings insulted my sister in third grade."

Now half-listening to Caitlin, Clark surveyed the house around him. It was wide and empty with boxes stacked against walls several high where there was anything. The walls too were bare, all photos and paintings that had been present previously having been removed. Furniture was also absent. "What happened?" he asked Caitlin, still surveying the empty house.

"I told you to ask the siblings," Caitlin answered over her shoulder. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to tone it down a little, for my own good." She paused. "Well, let's just say that little Karen had something to say to Lexi about what she was wearing. And then Lexi told me, and the little jerk went home with a black eye and a bloody mouth."

"Wow," Clark breathed. "Were you just feeling abnormally mean that day? I mean, I've never seen you as one to get angry enough to do that…"

Caitlin offered a wane smile. "Oh, yes, I'm quite mild-mannered and calm when all's well, and even in crisis, but touch my family and you've incurred the worst sort of wrath known to man."

Clark just shook his head.

During all of this, Caitlin had been leading Clark down the main hallway, then off into the kitchen. As they turned into the wide kitchen, Clark abruptly noticed the three kids sitting at the bar that separated the kitchen from the dining area, dark expressions on their faces.

"Sis," Lexi asked with narrow eyes, "what's he doing here?"

"No need to be angry at Clark anymore," Caitlin explained with a smile. "He came and apologized." As Caitlin's three siblings simultaneously started to open their mouths, she quickly added, "Yes, honestly. You guys don't have to cold shoulder him anymore."

Of the three, Daniel was seemingly the only one who took Caitlin's statement at full face-value. Kendall and Lexi's stares both conveyed skepticism.

"Whatever you say, Sis," both said aloud, however.

"You guys are done with your break," Caitlin said, flicking her hands. "Get on back to your work. Sissy says!"

With grumbles and not-quite audible retorts, the three younger O'Conners slid from their barstools and ascended the stairs to their bedrooms.

"What kind of work?" Clark asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Packing," Caitlin explained. "You know we're moving out in about half a week. Everything but the necessaries has to be moved out by tomorrow."

"Oh," he said, cold realization slapping him across the face. Quickly, he changed the subject. "So, are your parents home? I got the impression that your siblings obeyed you out of necessity…"

"My parents aren't here," she confirmed. "They're out dealing with the movers."

"Ah." So the attempt to change the subject was pointless. Everything would come back to the fact that the O'Conner family was moving and moving soon.

"Yes, Clark, we're going," Caitlin whispered, staring him straight in the eyes. "You knew six months ago that we were going to leave, and the exact day. Why now are you so unwilling to accept that?"

"Because I got attached and don't want to lose you."

Caitlin smiled lightly. "Thanks, and I know how corny this is going to sound, but you'll never really lose me." She poked a finger to his chest, over his heart. "I'm in there, and…" Her finger moved to touch his temple. "…I think I'm in there. With whatever little else exists in your head."

"Hey!" Clark protested.

Caitlin simply laughed.

A silence lingered after her laughter faded.

"We lost two weeks, you know," Clark said lightly.

"I know. Because I was too stubborn—Lord knows of all things, I can hold a grudge for years—and you were too afraid." She shook her head. "Time is a stubborn thing, always moving forward against all human will, never reversing however much we could ever wish it to. No one except the Almighty can ever reverse time, and time lost is time never to be recovered."

"I wish we didn't have to lose that time."

"It's forever lost to us and any other," Caitlin stated with a sigh. "We're not getting it back, but we can make up for it."

Clark arched an eyebrow. "How?"

X-X-X-X-X

"Clark, you are so slow! Get your butt moving!" Caitlin shouted over her shoulder at him. She was already into costume, mask pulled over her face.

This was how they were making up for lost time: by taking a trip to the great city of Metropolis for one last crime-fighting endeavor before the partnership was broken by a thousand miles' distance. One last shot at making Clark the superhero Caitlin knew he could be before circumstances tore them apart.

"I said, _move_!" she shouted again.

Clark was still fumbling with getting his mask on. Haphazardly, he yanked it over his head and because of his disregard to neatness, it wound up crooked, eye slits on the side of his head. "Ready!" he said.

"Tsk, tsk!" Caitlin dismissed. "Not yet!" She gave his mask a good yank and righted it quickly, turning immediately after and sprinting out of the ally. "Now, follow!"

Clark was immediately on her heels as she rounded the corner quickly, opening her view to the mess ahead.

Somehow, an army helicopter had lost control on its flight to the airbase on Metropolis's west side and found itself smashing into the weak structure of a radio broadcast tower. Currently it was teetering on the edge of the edifice by its left runner and smashed rotator blades. One man in a green officer's uniform was hanging halfway out of the window, calling furiously for help. The other—who Caitlin suspected was the pilot—was hanging limp inside the cabin, held in an odd position by his half-snapped harness.

Below in the busy streets, people were noticing and stopping, fingers pointed and voices crying incredulously.

Caitlin leapt into the air at the edge of the street, flying over the tops of cars with Clark right beside her. She projected a plan into his mind.

_I'll get the man hanging out. You get the copter before it falls and kills anyone._

Clark affirmed quickly. _Got it._

She flew towards the dangling man quickly, pushing as much speed as possible into her flight. She was beside him in seconds, ready to catch him should he fall.

"Sir," she said, touching his arm lightly.

He turned to face her, only the slightest hint of fear present on his face. Well, he was a military man. "Yeah? You gonna help here or just stand—" He looked down to see that she was suspended by nothing but air, not standing. "—I mean _hover_ there all day!"

"I'm here to help, if you'd shut your mouth and let me," she bit back, reaching out to grab him. "Let go when I tell you, and right then." She locked an arm underneath either of his, making sure that she had a good grip. "Alright, just let go."

He did and his full weight pressed against Caitlin's arms. For the briefest of seconds, her levitating control wasn't set up to take all of the extra weight and they slipped downward. But then she readjusted with some difficulty and lowered them both slowly to the ground.

"Go faster, this position is uncomfortable," the man said.

"Would you rather I drop you?" Caitlin groused. "_That_ would be faster."

"Go ahead."

Less than five feet from the ground, Caitlin spitefully slid both of her arms up and threw them up over her head for emphasis. The man slipped out of her arms and hit the ground hard enough to get a few bruises.

"Hey! What was that for?" he asked gruffly as he stood and brushed himself off.

Caitlin touched lightly to the ground in the center of the gap in the crowd. "You told me to…" She glanced at his insignia and name plate. "… General Lane. And I have to obey superior officers."

"Would you have stopped if I told you to leave me up there?" he retorted.

Behind Caitlin, Clark slowly set the wreck of the helicopter down with a slight metal rattling.

"No," she said, making it obvious that she was now choosing to be the better person. "It's my duty to save those in need whether they want it or not. No matter what any superior of mine might say, I'm here to save lives." She pointed a finger at him. "Yours included, sir."

"You'd make a very good soldier, ma'am," General Lane said. "Ever think about joining the Army?"

"Yes, I have," Caitlin answered, covering surprise at his identification of her disguised gender. "And I'm afraid that the Army—really, the Armed Services in general—will have to do without me for the time being."

He nodded.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder to make sure Clark was following, Caitlin leapt up and away into the night sky without further words. A few blocks away, she set down in an alley, as did Clark.

"I heard you and that officer arguing," Clark said, breathing a little heavy. "What was it about?"

Caitlin smiled as she pulled off her mask and started becoming Caitlin O'Conner again, not Psyche-Out. "Oh, he just had some sarcasm throw at me. I decided to give him a taste of it from me too."

Clark smiled. "He didn't like it?"

"Oh, he didn't seem to really care, except when I dropped him."

"You _dropped_ him!" Clark exclaimed. "What in the world did you do _that_ for!"

"He told me to."

"He told you to drop him?"

"Well, he told me to hurry, I asked him if he wanted me to drop him so he could go faster by himself, and he said—and I quote!—'Go ahead.' So I did."

"Did it occur to you he was being sarcastic?"

"Oh, I knew he was," Caitlin said, smiling. "But he asked for it, and I gave it."

Rolling his eyes, Clark scoffed. "You twist words and intentions too much."

"How much is too much?" Caitlin retorted. "I don't think you know, or if anyone really knows. Clark, he asked, I delivered, end of story. He wasn't hurt."

"Only his pride."

"Pride comes before the fall," Caitlin quoted. "This time literally."

Caitlin had to admit that she enjoyed arguing with Clark, especially now, after that whole ordeal that he'd caused two weeks ago. Especially now that she would soon be leaving.


	20. Farewell

**_Well, it's here when we all doubted it would ever exist. The last chapter of Shaping Superman, and the farewell to Caitlin O'Conner. (sigh) It's been a pleasure to write all ofthis, really, but as all things must, it ends. But never fear, a sequel will be up soon._**

_**I would like to extend a thank you to everyone who ever reviewed.**_

_**Bigger thanks to cinafran, Liz213Mast, Merklin, mir21, Mixer, sealkid3, Startreader and teh Kae for adding it to their favorites list.**_

_**The biggest thanks to Jessica, Olivia, Pamela and Michele who all allowed themselves to be subjugated to my wacky mind.**_

_**And most of all, all glory, honor, power and praise be unto the One who makes everything possible, even telepathic girls teaching alien farmboys.

* * *

**_

**Bye, Smallville**

All things must come to an end, no matter how great, no matter how grand. Greatness only ensures remembrance, not everlasting endurance. No matter the human will, time progresses against us and forces things to end. Thus our story must come to an end, as we have all known it will since the beginning.

The influence of Caitlin O'Conner as a teacher and partner and friend to Clark Kent must end, and so it does.

X-X-X-X-X

Consciousness found Caitlin O'Conner early on the morning of the first of February, her last day in Smallville, Kansas. Her clock read four-thirty, and in all actuality, she shouldn't have awakened for another two hours at least.

Despite this, she knew immediately that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

With a sigh, she stretched and untangled herself from her sleeping bag. Quietly, she made her way across the floor, sidestepping her three younger siblings who were also curled up in their respective sleeping bags, snoring lightly.

Caitlin managed to make her way across the living room and into the kitchen without disturbing any of them. She was able to navigate the kitchen in the dark, without the aid of any telepathic abilities.

Wasn't that ironic: when she was just finally, really getting settled into Smallville and into this house, she was being uprooted and returned to the home she'd been longing for before?

Ironic, and painful.

She had to say that it really was poor planning on her father's part, uprooting and possibly damaging his family not once, but twice in half a year. Now, she also had to say that Dale O'Conner was never a stupid man, and by no means a spiteful one, so maybe he'd just been blindsided. Maybe his judgment had been clouded by the career opportunity of a lifetime.

Maybe.

But Caitlin had never known her father to be the sort of man to be phased by riches. No, he was a simple country man in every sense of the term.

And if she could find no real logical reason for it, it must be Divine. Reflexively, she threw a glance upward.

Yes, that fit. Perhaps she had come to Smallville specifically to meet Clark Kent, and to make him something more than he had been. If there was no real reason from her side of the tracks that she should have been in Smallville, there had to be a reason on Clark or Smallville in general's side.

Maybe she was here to be the light that shone on Clark's life and make it into a great destiny or to be a prism that distorted his view on it so that he could see what he could become. Maybe she had been here to be the force that drove Clark on to greater things than he would have accomplished alone. Maybe she had been the real and only energy that pushed him to be a superhero.

Had she been?

Caitlin had a gut feeling—she strongly suspected it wasn't entirely her own—that heavenly reasoning and the need for someone to influence Clark Kent's destiny had placed her in Smallville for the past six months.

Silently, she offered thanks.

_Thank you, Heavenly Father_, she prayed quietly, _for using such a broken and inadequate vessel as me to carry about Your will. I am Yours alone, and continue to use me, my God. In Jesus' name, Amen._

"So, what's on today's agenda?" she asked herself quietly as she made herself a cup of hot chocolate. "Too much," she answered her own question. "Way too much to do today."

X-X-X-X-X

Clark couldn't keep his eyes on Caitlin's face as she hurried across the empty stretch of field that neighbored her family's empty house towards him where he was standing to meet her. It was too much to look up on the face that would be leaving Smallville for good within hours…

"C'mon, up with that head," Caitlin said, taking a hand to Clark's chin and forcing him to comply. "Clark, don't get all sad on me yet. I ain't outta here just yet. I have some people to stop by and see. That's why I needed you and your truck." She leapt and levitated over the bed of the truck, placing her on the passenger's side. "Hurry up and let's get moving…"

Trying only half successfully to rid himself of the dread he was feeling, Clark opened his door and slid inside. "Where to first?" he asked.

Caitlin got a concentrated look on her face. "Let's see… Ms. Burchard should be first." She rattled off an address and Clark cranked the truck.

"How many people are we out to see this morning?" Clark asked as he pulled out onto the road and started off.

"Just two," Caitlin assured him. "Pamela and Michele. I've told everyone else good-bye already. But I'd also like to stop and see your parents on the way back."

"That's fine. And I'm sure that my parents would be more than happy to see you."

Caitlin offered a light smile.

Clark let the conversation lapse into silence as he took the few short turns towards the address Caitlin had given. He came to a stop in front of a simple pale blue home preceded by a wide variety of ferns and what looked to be tropical plants that were all but dead in the Kansas chill of late winter.

He gestured Caitlin out, but she lingered for a moment, just staring at him before she sighed and shook her head as she stepped out.

"What?" Clark asked, but Caitlin was either oblivious or ignored it.

X-X-X-X-X

The door of Pamela Burchard's home sat in front of Caitlin in all of its plain white glory, doorbell light gleaming and beckoning she touch it. For the slightest of moments, Caitlin hesitated.

She was here to bid farewell to Pamela, who really plays only a small part in the story I've told. Seemingly, she was there prominently in the beginning and faded away, but still she was there on unmentioned average days in this story, teaching and watching out for Caitlin and her secret.

That was another reason Caitlin was here today. To thank Pamela Burchard for all she'd done.

Overcoming the urge to run and leave things undone, Caitlin touched the button lightly and heard the bell ring inside of the house.

"Just a second!" yelled Pamela's voice from inside. Shortly after, the door swung open to reveal the short lady. "Oh, hello, Caitlin. Aren't you supposed to be leaving today?"

"In a couple of hours," Caitlin specified. "But I had to stop by to see you first."

"Is something wrong?" Pamela asked, worry already finding its way to her face.

"No, no," Caitlin replied quickly. "The opposite, actually. Everything's great, and so I wanted to thank you, Pamela. I know that you were looking out for me and my secret this whole time. Thanks for being so vigilant, and thanks for not telling anyone."

"It's nothing."

"Not to sound cliché, but it is something!" Caitlin insisted. "There are so many people that I couldn't have trusted this secret with, and several that I had to take it from. But you turned out to be one of those that not only keeps it locked away, but guards it and its true owner. Thank you so very much for being a sensible voice when there were none."

"Your voice is more than sensible," Pamela dismissed.

"But we all know how skewed it can get." Caitlin offered a smile. She then threw a glace over her shoulder at Clark waiting in the truck. "Well, I've got to go. I just wanted to say thanks, and bye."

"Good-bye, Caitlin."

Caitlin had already turned and begun walking away. "Bye," she said over her shoulder. "And thanks again."

Pamela smiled and mouthed a silent "you're welcome" as Caitlin waved goodbye.

Caitlin saw the art teacher's eyes linger as she slid into the truck by Clark, causing her to sigh. Clark's overly-quiet mannerisms forced a repetition of the sigh.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked.

"Nothing," Clark answered, false annoyance in his voice.

"You're quiet, too quiet," she pressed, repeating the cliché for humor. He smiled lightly. "Oh, come on! I'm leaving later, and I'd like to have some good conversation with the friend I'm leaving behind!"

"That's just it!" Clark cried. "You're leaving, and somehow I can't seem to feel normal with that looming overhead. I'm trying, really, I am, but it's not working."

"Try harder," she joked. She saw the honest retort forming on Clark's lips and she quickly added, "Really, Clark, I meant please just don't think about it. You're making me uneasy too. And I don't want my last—" She glanced at her watch pointedly. "—hour and a half in Smallville to be under tight tension with you."

Clark sighed heavily, breathing out his worry. "So, where do we start?"

"We start with me telling you that you're not even going the speed limit," Caitlin retorted, pointing to his speedometer. "The gas pedal's there for a reason, dude." Prompted by a honk from behind, she glanced over her shoulder. "And it looks like they know it too."

Clark sped up some, but still hung safely a little below the limit. "Alright, sorry."

"Clark?"

"Yes?"

"You drive slower than my great-grandma with her bad knee," Caitlin told him plainly. "Everyone knows that you can go like five miles over the limit and be fine. Actually, that's the way most people drive."

"I'm not most people," said Clark. "I don't want to risk a ticket."

"Clark," Caitlin said disbelievingly. "There are about five cops in all of Smallville. Chances of them being between here and Michele's house are about… mm, one in fifty?"

Another honk from behind punctuated her words.

"Ok, fine," Clark admonished, pressing the pedal a little more.

Caitlin watched the speedometer climb to a sensible pace instead of the painfully slow one it had been on. "Were you trying to force me to waste my last—" As before, she pointedly glanced at her watch. "—hour and twenty-three minutes in Smallville with you?"

"Haha," Clark said sarcastically. He paused, then changed the subject. "So, are you going to hand all of your work over to Michele like right now?"

"No, I already had that taken care of," Caitlin said. "I had it taken care of before I left school a week ago."

"Oh. Any particular reason you're going now?" Clark asked, turning down the road that Michele lived on.

"Personal farewells, last minute instructions, little bit of advice…" She looked out the window at a two-story yellow, country-style home preceded by a short walkway across a snow-covered lawn and before that, a white-picket fence outside of which stood a mailbox that read THOMPSON as Clark brought the truck to a stop. "You know, the basics."

"Alright, make it quick."

_Make it quick?_ Caitlin thought quizzically. _Who is _he_ to tell _me_ to "make it quick"?_

She voiced it with a snort and sarcastic tone.

"I just meant that we probably need to keep moving to get everything in," Clark explained quickly.

"Whatever," Caitlin said flippantly, already out and making her way down the pathway. Only halfway to the door, she sensed and saw that she need not go all the way there as Michele sat on the porch, rocking in a plain white chair.

"Hey," Michele greeted her as she set foot on the veranda.

"Hey," Caitlin returned, taking a chair beside Michele. "Why are you sitting out here?"

"I was waiting for you. I knew you'd be coming around sometime around now, and my family just got back from church, so I thought I'd wait it out here."

"Oh."

Inwardly, Caitlin struggled to put her thoughts and advice for Michele to words, failing to do so and such remaining silent. Michele sat in calm patience, waiting for her friend and thus-far mentor to get herself in order. She knew, and Caitlin knew that Caitlin wasn't a quiet person except when reason asked it of her, but nor was she a loud one, really. If she had opinions to voice, she voiced them loud, long and hard. But now, Michele let them sit in silence for a minute out of respect for the wiser, but younger teen.

Eventually, however, Michele's patience ran out.

"Well, did you have something to say?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Caitlin said, chuckling at herself. "I have so much to say, so much to give to you that I don't know where to start, or how to say it. Let's try it nice and easy." She took a deep breath. "First, I guess I should start with the obvious: thanks so much for all you've done. Now before you go down-playing your part and all, you know and I know that you've done things that require my thanks. You've been sticking to my side through thick and thin for these past few months, especially since learning my secret, and especially in that whole incident with Clark." Reflexively, she threw a glance at the parked truck and its dark-haired occupant. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome," Michele said with a smile. "And now, thanks to you. You not only taught me how to be a better journalist, but you helped make me fit in Smallville. You cleaned out a nice little niche here for me, and I want to thank you for that."

"You're welcome too," Caitlin said. "Because really it was nothing." She paused to flash a smile that then faded to weighted importance. "And speaking of that all, I have some serious advice for you."

Michele looked at her intently with those bright green eyes. "Go ahead."

"Alright, I had my own 'little niche' of a part in Smallville that I made for myself over the past six months," she said slowly. "And I made for myself a place in Clark's heart and life." She paused, trying to gather her words.

"And…?" Michele asked.

"And I wanted to tell you that you can take my place on the Torch, and I want you to stay close to Clark as a friend and all but…" She hesitated. Should she really be saying this? Would Michele take it as offense?

_Go ahead_, bid a mental voice not her own.

And so she did.

"But I have to warn you, don't try and take my place."

Michele looked at her oddly, cocking her head slightly to the side. "Why would I ever try to do that?"

"Well, you were my protégé of sorts, trained to fill my slot," Caitlin said. Then she realized that Michele thought she was being vain and selfish. "Oh, no, no, no!" she corrected. "This isn't personal at all, Michele. It's just that I've seen things on the horizon of the future. Someone else is going to come along and fill and wipe out my little piece by filling it better than even I ever could. Clark's got some really big meeting coming up, and I'm not sure I want you caught in the middle to get hurt."

Michele nodded understanding.

"And another thing, 'Chele." Caitlin stood. "I want you to look after Clark when I'm gone. He's got a good heart, but I think he's a little too naïve. Watch out for him, please."

"I will," promised Michele.

"You've been a good friend," Caitlin said, smiling faintly but sincerely. "Thanks. Bye, for now. I'll see you sometime in the future."

Frowning at the meaning, Michele just said, "Bye, Caitlin."

X-X-X-X-X

Clark could feel his eyes beginning to feel wet as he stepped out of his truck and watched Caitlin do the same on the other side.

Caitlin's good-byes to Johnathan and Martha Kent had been short, unlike her ones to Pamela Burchard and Michele. She'd offered them thanks for everything, wished them well in everything they did and said she'd never forget them.

Clark was happy to hear it, but also sad.

Now he stood at the end of the O'Conners' driveway, at the other end of which Caitlin's family was climbing into a large SUV driven by one of their family friends, ready to ride off to the Metropolis airport in fifteen minutes. After her goodbyes to Clark—which he strongly suspected would be short, kind but painful—she too would climb into the vehicle and be off from Smallville, probably not to return.

He looked up to see Caitlin's dark eyes, as deep with wisdom as space was infinite, staring at him with an almost audible whisper of sorrow and pain of goodbye.

"Clark," she said simply.

"Caitlin," he returned, trying to humor her.

His attempt worked, and she smiled.

"Clark, I want to leave you with some heartening words, but I'm searching for just the right ones," she said. "Goodbyes are hard for me, and I hate them so. But they're a necessary evil."

"So leave me with your wisdom," Clark said.

"First, I have a warning for you." She was all seriousness now. "Clark, have you ever heard of Hank Williams?"

Clark racked his brain, but couldn't remember anything, so he shook his head. "No."

"I thought as much of someone like you. Anyway, he was a country singer in the late 40s, early 50s. He was a big success, becoming a great superstar at age twenty-five. He's now revered as the greatest country songwriter of all time, and set a basic standard that all today's artists try and live up to. They consider him the Father of modern day country."

Clark wasn't catching the drift. "So…?" he prompted.

"I wasn't done. Yes, he was a magnificent songwriter, but he was also an alcoholic. He had an awful reputation for being unreliable and irritable. Besides that, he treated his family awfully. They eventually left him. So he had it all, but at the same time he had nothing. And at age twenty-nine, he died. He took some pills for health problems with whiskey, and the mix killed him."

"And…?" he prompted again.

Caitlin sighed, one that seemed to Clark to be slightly irritated.

"Ok, let's put it this way," Caitlin said. "Do you know who Ernest Hemingway was, Clark? Oh, of course you do. You couldn't get to be a junior in high school without knowing who he was. So refresher course: great American author revered for his short stories and now considered a classic author."

"I knew that much," Clark said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, that's why I called it a refresher course," Caitlin scoffed. "Do you know anything about his life?"

"No…" Clark said, eyeing Caitlin oddly.

"Well, he had his problems. Radical, liberal theories, personal problems, tightly consistent criticism… Hemingway was married four times, to four different women, Clark. And eventually, he wound up committing suicide."

Clark's eyebrows rose for a minute. Then, again he pressed for Caitlin's point.

She gave a kind of scoff/sigh mix. "Ok, since you're so eager to have it, my point is this: watch yourself. Clark, these men had it all. Hank Williams had the fame and the talent. Ernest Hemingway too had the fame and the talent, and he had the novels to show for it. Both have the legend. But both wound up killing themselves—Hank Williams indirectly, wearing themselves out and causing severe chaos in the process. My point to you, Clark, is not to be so obsessed with your success that your personal life and integrity goes out the window."

Clark smiled as he promised her, "Oh, I won't."

"Good. Another snapshot of advice, be wary of Lex Luthor."

That caught Clark's attention dead-on. "What?" he asked, not sure of what he'd just heard.

"You heard me: be wary of Lex Luthor."

Everyone that Clark ever came across warned him to watch out for Lex, that he was tainted and would manipulate. Generally, he ignored them, dismissing them as being narrow-minded fools. But Caitlin was anything but narrow-minded and foolish.

"I'm not trying to force anything on you and I'm not being discriminating. I've seen things in Lex, things that you don't want to be near or a part of. Watch out. I know you're the kind of person who sees the good in everybody and tries to bring it out, but don't get too close, or you're not going to be able to get out."

Only half-believing, Clark nodded.

"So, Clark. This is it," Caitlin said solemnly.

"This is it," he agreed reluctantly.

"You have my email address and phone number. Give me a week to get settled in, and then I'll probably get to calling regularly."

"Ok."

"Hey, it'll be alright. Physically, I'll try and look you up in five years, when I get out of college."

"You do that."

Without warning, Caitlin pulled Clark into a tight hug, pulling him close and even pressing her head to his shoulder. He returned the embrace, blinking back tears. So this was really, truly it…

And just as abruptly, Caitlin pulled back, wiping away small tears.

"Bye, Clark," she whispered. "See you in five years."

"Bye, Caitlin."

Sadly, he watched her turn and run over to the SUV. Just before she reached it, she turned over her shoulder and shouted for the entire world to hear.

"Bye, Smallville!"

Clark couldn't for the life of him figure out if she meant him or the town.

**THE END

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**

**_Alright, guys, be on the lookout for a mini sequel shortly. It won't be a Smallville story, but a Superman one, so really be looking out. Put me on your author alert lists, and you should catch it just fine. ;)It should be named "Revisiting Superman," or something similar._**


	21. BONUS: CALENDAR and TIMELINE

**_This was my personal timeline that I used to help me plot the whole thing... I'm posting it so you guys can have it as a reference. Oh, yeah, and I should be revising the Author's Note on chapter one soon, and adding a short prologue. So look out for that._

* * *

**

**Timeline of "Shaping Superman: The Tale of Caitlin O'Conner"**

**September 4th**: First day of school at Smallville High School, Clark meets Caitlin. (The New Girl in Town 1)

**September 11th**: Clark finds out, Olivia first appears. (A Startling Revelation 2, Partners? 3, Home is Still in Florida 4)

**September 15th**: Clark's first lesson. (First Lesson 5)

**September 19-22nd**: Olivia Southwell comes for a visit. (Floridians in Kansas 6)

**September 30th**: Clark makes a move on Caitlin, and she forces him back. (Clark… Makes a Move 7)

**October 7th**: Caitlin teaches Clark his second lesson: patience and wisdom. (Lesson Two: Patience and Wisdom 8)

**October 21st**: Clark teaches Caitlin a lesson for once: relaxation and the importance of letting go of one's reins once in a while. Caitlin manages to teach Clark a couple of lessons along the way. (Clark teaches Caitlin 9)

**October 31st**: Clark and Caitlin become entangled in a mystery when Caitlin's friend Jessica Brand disappears from the Halloween Dance…

**November 14th-16th**: Caitlin drags Clark into a weekend of superheroics when they're in Metropolis for a journalist convention. Michele Thompson appears on scene. (Practice Makes Perfect 11)

**November 17th**: Lex Luthor investigates Caitlin O'Conner as part of his Clark shrine. (Investigation 12)

**November 26th**: Caitlin teaches Clark lesson number three about the true meaning of being thankful before she leaves to go to Florida for the Thanksgiving holiday. (Lesson Three: Give Thanks 13)

**December 1st**: Caitlin's back in Smallville, and she's ready to exercise her powers… But it leads our duo right into Lex Luthor's trap. (Exposure and Elimination 14)

**December 19th**: Caitlin teaches Clark a lesson about death on the anniversary of her late aunt's birthday. (Lesson Four: Death 15)

**December 26th**: The Kent family is in Yulee/Fernandina for a weekend of touring and relaxation during winter break. (Kansidians in Florida 16)

**January 4th**: Caitlin's back in Smallville, and she's ready to tell Clark that she's no idol, and she's definitely not perfect. Michele learns the secret. (Not So Perfect/Lesson Five: Faulted Faultless 17)

**January 14th**: At a school dance, Clark attempts to romance Caitlin again, making a deep rift appear between the two. (Romance Part Two 18)

**January 30th**: Clark and Caitlin reconcile, and they practice again in Metropolis, happening to meet Lois Lane's father in the process! (Parting Shot 19)

**February 1st**: Caitlin's going, going… Gone… (Bye, Smallville 20)

* * *

**Monthly Compressed Timeline**

**September**

4: Meeting (1)

11: Discovery (2, 3, 4)

15: First Lesson (5)

19-22: Olivia's Visit (6)

30: Clark… makes a move (7)

**October**

7: Lesson Two—Patience and Wisdom (8)

21: Clark teaches Caitlin (9)

31: Disappearance (10)

**November**

14: Practice makes Perfect (11)

16: Investigation… (12)

26: Lesson Three: Give Thanks (13)

**December**

1: Exposure and Elimination (14)

19: Lesson Four—Death (15)

26: Kansidians in Florida (16)

**January**

4: Not so Perfect/Lesson Five: Faultless (17)

14: Romance Part Two (18)

30: Parting Shot—Our Third Practice (19)

**February**

5: Good-bye, Smallville (20)

* * *

**Further Description**

**BROKEN DOWN BY CHAPTER**

1: Clark and Caitlin first meet, Caitlin amazes the school

2: Clark discovers Caitlin's secret

3: Caitlin explains her abilities and secret

4: Caitlin and Olivia talk and Olivia announces she's coming to visit

5: Caitlin teaches Clark his first superhero lesson: Combat

6: Olivia Southwell has come all the way from Yulee, Florida to Smallville, Kansas to visit Caitlin, and Caitlin shows her around town

7: Lex invites Clark and a friend/date to a party in Metropolis, and Clark takes Caitlin. He tries to romance her and she pushes him away.

8: Clark learns lesson number 2: Patience and Wisdom

9: Clark teaches Caitlin an important lesson: the importance of releasing one's reins once in a while to have fun

10: Clark and Caitlin attend Smallville High's Halloween Dance, and manage to get involved in a mystery when Caitlin's visiting friend Jessica Brand disappears.

11: Caitlin and Clark go to Metropolis to practice their superheroics…

12: Lex Luthor begins to investigate the mysterious Caitlin O'Conner and adds her to his shrine to Clark after he witnesses her superheroics in Met.

13: Caitlin teaches lesson number 3 about thankfulness on the eve of Thanksgiving, right before she leaves to go to Florida for 4 days

14: Our duo heads to Metropolis for another practice, only to find themselves entangled in a trap set by Lex Luthor

15: On the birthday of her deceased aunt, Caitlin teaches Clark an important part of heroism: death, and being able to let go

16: The Kent family accepts an invitation from Caitlin to come to Florida for a few days over winter break, and they tour Yulee/Fernandina Beach

17: Caitlin returns (a bit regretfully) to Smallville after winter break

18: Not entirely convinced by Caitlin's first warning to stay away, Clark tries to romance her again, and meets with hostility

19: Clark and Caitlin reconcile after their disagreement in 18, Caitlin suggests that they go to Metropolis for a heroic day one last time…

20: A bittersweet day in Smallville as it bids farewell to the O'Conner family, and Clark is torn as he watches Caitlin go. On departure, she leaves him with a few last, life-changing words and a promise that she'll see him again one day.


	22. BONUS: Missing Scene: Painkiller

**Well, I knew I said I was done with this story and all, but just recently, this little piece popped up in my mind and begged to be written! It's really short, and I'm calling it a "missing scene" since that's kinda what it is. **

**It's supposed to be between "Worship" and "Reconciliation," which are chapters 18 & 19. It's after Clark messes things up with Caitlin at the dance, and before he goes to reconcile the situation.**

**Anyway, here it is.

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**Painkiller**

The high-pitched whine of the probably most sorrowful man in the world filled the room with the simple words of one of his greatest songs. They were already etched on her mind from years of hearing them ring out through the house—her room particularly—and her lips moved along with the words.

Caitlin tried her best to sing on-key, but being halfway tone-deaf, she wasn't entirely sure she got there.

That was okay, Hank Williams didn't mind.

_I've tried so hard my dear to show,_

_That you're my every dream,_

_Yet you're afraid each thing I do,_

_Is just some evil scheme_

_A memory from your lonesome past_

_Keeps us so far apart…_

_Why can't I free your doubtful mind,_

_And melt your cold, cold heart?_

Her eyes were closed as she lay sprawled across her bed, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Why did Clark have to go and do this to her? All that came of it was strife, grief and heartache—all three being something Caitlin could have definitely gone without. Come to think of it, most of the escapades with Clark were pains she could've gone without.

But wasn't that one the toils of friendship?

No, that was one of the toils of life.

The song "Cold, Cold Heart" ended, and the CD cycled on to another one Caitlin knew equally well. The words found their way up to her lips too.

_When tears come down like fallin' rain,_

_You'll toss around and call my name._

_You'll walk the floor, the way I do_

_Your cheatin' heart will tell on you._

Groaning, she clutched the CD case in her hand tight to her body. She could always feel Hank's pain when she listened, and now she felt like he was just feeling hers. The pain was the same, taking two hearts even if they were fifty years apart.

What in the world had possessed Clark to do this? Caitlin wondered.

She'd thought she had everything smooth between her and Clark. That those romantic fantasies of his had gone right out of his mind where they belonged. Right out in the cold winter snow.

Apparently, that wasn't so.

Why couldn't he just deal with the fact that she didn't do romance, and wasn't going to look at him romantically?

_Because of his lifelong struggle with Lana_, she answered her own question. _It made him hate the "let's just be friends" thing, completely. He sort of had to give up on her because she'll go and be with anyone but him, and he sees me, thinks I'm perfect and decides since I'm not "taken" there has to be a reason, and it must be him._

What a mess. What a complete and total mess.

Again, the track ended and moved on, as did the words she was singing.

_Take these chains from my heart and set me free,_

_You've grown cold and no longer care for me,_

_All my faith in you is gone while the heartaches linger on,_

_Take these chains from my heart and set me free._

_That's how Clark must feel_, Caitlin thought, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling. _Like I was holding him away at arm's length and keeping him chained. That I didn't and don't care._

Great. Hank was rebelling and going into enemy camp with this song.

Just great.

Rubbing her forehead, Caitlin sighed deeply. Why shouldn't he? She had long ago termed Hank Williams' music "The Ultimate Painkiller," and considered it the cure for a million different kinds of hurt.

Why couldn't it be the cure to a kind of pain Clark must be feeling too?

"Ultimate Painkiller indeed," she muttered, fingering the hard CD case. "That was you, Hank. If you can cure all of our hurt, why couldn't you fix your own?"

As was expected, the picture gave no reply.

"Well, fine, don't answer me then," Caitlin huffed at it sarcastically. "You'll remain one of the greatest mysteries of all time. Just stay that way." With another deep sigh, she continued talking to the little plastic case. "Well, you've got your work cut out for you this time. Let me make an introduction."

She glanced over at a framed class photo sitting on her bedside table and held out a hand towards it. "Well, this is how it goes, meeting your opponent. Hank Williams, the Ultimate Painkiller, meet high school, the Ultimate Pain Inducer."

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**Well, that's so true isn't it? High school is the ultimate Pain Inducer.**

**Review now, folks. Review. ;)**

**Songs of which lyrics are used are as follows:**

**1st song: Cold, Cold Heart**

**2nd song: Your Cheatin' Heart**

**3rd song: Take These Chains From My Heart**

**All by the great Hank Williams. OMG, I just realized all the song titles end in heart! lol! **


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